


Mother in Heaven

by DarkPhoenixGoddess10



Series: Anne and Richard: Inspired by Fairy Tales [14]
Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenixGoddess10/pseuds/DarkPhoenixGoddess10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You will have three sons. One will be King; one will die in bed; and one will die by execution..."</p><p>After the decisive York victory, Lady Anne Neville was left widowed and pregnant. Before the birth of her first child, she had a dream that foreseen the fate of her unborn children.</p><p>"She who has been a Mother and Queen on earth will become a Mother and Queen in heaven." </p><p>Based on Grimms' Fairy Tale "Maiden without Hands"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annetheseamaiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetheseamaiden/gifts).



> This is written on a dare from AnnetheSeaMaiden

**_London, Westminster Abbey, 1503_ **

In the quiet, dark, and reverent crypt of Westminster Abbey, King Richard of England stood before a marble tomb.

It was the tomb of Lady Anne Neville, Queen of England.

On her tomb scribed her epitaph in Latin:

_She who has been a Queen and Mother on earth_

_Has become a Queen and Mother in Heaven_

Lady Anne Neville, wife to King Richard III and mother to his sons, died at age 28.

The King closed his eyes and tried hard to recall the face of Lady Anne Neville—a woman who had bore great love for him and who sacrificed her life for him…

***

**_London, 1471_ **

_The chamber was full of mists. She saw three cradles. The surrounding was mysterious and frightening._

_A figure with a black hood over his head whispered, “You will have three sons. One of them will be King; one will die peacefully in bed; and one will die by execution.”_

_A rosary was dangling before her eyes._

_Slowly, she approached to the cradles as baby cries were heard. She looked into the cradle before her._

_It was empty…_

Her eyes flew open.

The dream she had—a nightmare—haunted her even though she knew it wasn’t real. Was it a seeing? Sitting up and pulling the cover aside, Anne placed her hands on her belly. She was eight months pregnant.

With a Lancastrian heir.

She had prayed endlessly for the baby to be a girl, for it’d be safer.

Under no circumstance would the York King Edward tolerate a male, legitimate Lancastrian heir living and breathing on the soil of England. Would she been doomed to suffer the pain Lady Margaret Beaufort is suffering? Being separated from a child who will grow up never to know her?

Her marriage to the Lancastrian heir Edward of Westminster was purely done out of political alliance. Edward was not the cruel monster she had envisioned; but neither was he a prince charming. They only spent one night together, which was their wedding night. She was hurt from the pain he caused her when he took her virginity; but later she forgave him. Lancaster never loved her, and she knew that since he never touched her again afterwards.

But one night was enough.

Before departing Burgundy, Anne found out that she was with child.

The news brought joy to her mother, Lady Anne Beauchamp. “If the child is a boy, name him Guy,” she had told her.

The news of pregnancy was followed by the news of her father’s defeat, however. Ever the formidable militant queen, Margaret of Anjou took her son Edward and her pregnant daughter-in-law Anne back to England with reinforcement troops. Anne’s growing belly was both a blessing and a curse; on one hand, long hours of traveling and stress could induce a miscarriage or stillbirth; on the other hand, an expecting mother who is carrying a Lancastrian heir would be a useful symbol to motivate and rally the troops to fight on their side.

All proved to be fruitless.

Both Warwick and Edward of Westminster were slain in the battlefield.

The warrior Queen Margaret of Anjou was completely shattered. It was as if her unborn grandchild suddenly became nonexistent to her.

After they were captured at the nunnery, Anne was separated from her mother-in-law.

It was then Margaret of Anjou came to her senses.

“Anne? Anne? Where are you going Anne? Anne, come now!” She struggled against the guards. “You can’t take her away from me! She is carrying my grandchild!”

Anne stood numbly and watched as Margaret of Anjou was taken away.

Finally, after she was completely out of sight, Anne had a traumatic breakdown.

She was taken to her sister Isabel, Duchess of Clarence, who will oversee her lying in and confinement.

Yet, as for the fate of her unborn child, it would be decided by King Edward after Anne gives birth.

***

In a black dress, Anne was embroidering while the baby was kicking her. Swallowing her tears, she tried not to think about the moment where she’d have to be parted from her child. It was too hard. Each time the baby moved or kicked, it was as if her child was calling out to her.

She still couldn’t forget her dream.

_You will have three sons. One will be King; one will die peacefully in bed; and one will die by execution._

Which one of the three fates shall befall onto this child?

“Anne,” Isabel entered her chamber. Seeing Anne’s belly brought her sadness; she couldn’t help but thinking about the stillborn daughter she had on the ship. “I have heard things from the Court. I hope…I hope your child is a girl. They are saying if the child is a girl, then they would take her and have her brought up with the other royal children. The King will arrange a betrothal between your daughter and his infant son.”

Anne stopped. “Are you sure?”

“George told me,” Isabel said. “It makes sense. By marrying your daughter to his son, the two Houses will be united. The King does not hold grudge against you.”

“What if…the child is a boy?” Anne asked carefully.

After a long moment, Isabel muttered, “I don’t know.”

***

What would the King do to her child if it’s a boy?

Rubbing her belly, Anne painfully envisioned her unborn child’s future life in the Tower. A boy locked away not knowing his name and never to see the light…

She began to have the sinister thought of her child dying at birth so that he will not endure the destined suffering.

Then she hated herself for it.

_King, die in bed, or execution…_

To be King would be unlikely.

She guessed that execution would be the most likely fate.

***

As her confinement approached, Anne was left alone except the visits from Isabel. They had provided her a decent chamber, but there was yet any wet nurse or a midwife arranged.

Lying in bed, Anne tried to sleep. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain.

Pushing herself up, Anne could feel the bed wet.

She had a fearful sense of what is happening.

She crept out of the bed, and tried to move towards the chamber door; but the pain was too intense.

“Help…”She muttered under her breath, falling onto the ground, panting and groaning.

“Help!” She cried out again. “Isabel!”

No one came to her call.

***

Hours later, the maids and the ladies came to check up on Anne. As they came closer to her chamber, they began to hear cries.

“Lady Anne!”

Quickly, they rushed to her chamber but found the bed empty.

Cries were heard from a corner.

Horrified, the maids and the ladies found Anne sitting on the ground with her legs apart, covered in sweats.

“Help…” She cried and panted.

“Get a midwife!” One of the ladies shouted to the maids. “Go wake my lady Duchess of Clarence!”

The maids bolted out of the chamber while the ladies assisted Anne. They tried to pull her up but the pain was too much for her. She ended up kneeling on the ground before the bed with her legs apart while clutching onto the bed sheets. The pain was so overwhelming that she didn’t even notice that her sister Isabel entering the chamber with a midwife.

“Anne…” Isabel muttered as she wiped her forehead. The midwife rolled up her nightgown and found the baby’s head already came out.

“Push! Almost there!” The midwife instructed.

Finally, after a loud cry, it was done. Anne’s vision blurred as the midwife cut the umbilical cord.

“A boy…”

The voice seemed to be so far away.

Leaning against the bed without an ounce of strength, Anne watched as they washed the baby and wrapped him into a bundle. Two ladies wrapped a shawl and furs around her. Only then did Anne realize the midwife was taking her child away. The baby’s cries helped her regained her strength.

“Wait…” She tried to go after the midwife.

She couldn’t stand.

She crawled.

But the midwife’s footsteps became faster and faster.

“Wait…wait…” Reaching out her arm, Anne tried to stop the midwife; but the midwife was out of the reach.

The ladies and the maids stepped behind the midwife and formed a fortress.

But Anne refused to give up until the chamber door was shut in her face.

Letting out a cry, she fell onto the ground and cried her heart out.

She remained on the ground, soulless, with only her sister by her side.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment her child was taken away was like a part of her was forcefully torn off.

Anne had only a vague memory of her child. She did hear the cries and the soft voice of the midwife declaring the child a boy, but nothing more. She didn’t even catch a glimpse of him. After birth, she blacked out from the pain, the blood loss, and the desperation to stop the ladies who took away her child. By the time she came to, she was in bed with Isabel by her side.

She was confined for days.

Anne ate and drink like a dummy.

She maintained her silence and said nothing to anyone; not even Isabel. Her mind was conscious and clear, for she knew that no one would help her to see her son. Anything she’d say would only be used against her.

But she did want to see her child, even just one glimpse.

Was he even named?

Anne would’ve named him Richard, after her beloved late father. If the Yorks would frown upon it, she’d say that it was to honor the late Duke of York.

***

Weeks later, Anne was well enough to leave the bed. She obediently acted as her sister’s chief lady in waiting. In her heart, she was debating on if she should make the next move. She would not reveal anything to Isabel because she knew what Isabel would say.

She was going to see the Queen and beseech her.

As one mother to another.

Dressed in the finest and had her hair well plaited, Anne went to seek an audience with the Queen. Just as she anticipated, the Queen did not see her immediately. She waited patiently. Finally, hours later, the Queen summoned her.

Sitting in her iron throne, the Queen received her coolly.

Anne sauntered towards her with her steps light as cottons. She stopped a few feet before the throne and bowed very deep.

“Your Grace,” she began.

“Rise, and come closer,” the Queen replied evenly.

Anne rose and approached closer.

“I know why you are here,” the Queen said. “Don’t be mistaken for I hold no grudge against a lady who only did what she was told. I am a mother myself, and I know how you feel.”

That sounded kind enough, but Anne knew there was more to come.

“Your child, if I were you, I’d pretend that he never existed,” the Queen continued. She did not raise her voice, yet the words were like knives stabbing into Anne’s heart. “You will not see him and have nothing to do with his upbringing. You hardly know him.”

“I just want to know if he fares well,” Anne muttered. “I am his mother.”

“He lives, I can assure you that,” the Queen said coldly. “He will not be harmed, unless he rebels against my husband and my son. Leave now.”

Without any other choice, Anne curtsied and left.

Down the hallway, she heard whispers. Obviously, nobles and ladies were looking at her. She slowed down her steps and listened as hard as she could.

Perhaps someone would say something informative…

_The child…_

_Lancastrian heir…_

_The last hope…_

_St. Martin-le-Grand…_

The last word caught her attention.

St. Martin-le-Grand…the Sanctuary of St. Martin-le-Grand…

Her son would be there…

***

By the time she returned to Isabel’s quarters, she found her sister receiving her in anger.

Her ladies quickly excused themselves and the two sisters were left alone.

Isabel came towards Anne, who stood on the spot.

Quick as lightening, Isabel slapped her sister across the face. Anne did not look apologetic, nor did she rub her cheek.

Then the two sisters embraced.

“Anne, how could you?” Isabel asked tearfully. “You know better than that. The Queen hates us, and she will always be our enemy at heart. The King has pardoned us, and George. You must never, ever do anything that gets us in trouble again. From now on, do not ask about your child or about our lady mother.”

Their mother, the Countess of Warwick, was now in sanctuary. Her fate remained unknown.

“Anne, your child is like my poor daughter,” Isabel urged, referring to her stillbirth on the ship. “You can pretend that you never had a child, and that you fell ill and you have recovered. You are still young and soon, you will be married again and we’ll provide you a dowry. Eventually, you will have children again; I will too. If childbirth does not kill us and our husbands remain loyal to the King, we will be happy again.”

 _No, I cannot,_ Anne thought.

What Isabel said was too good to be true.

That experience on the ship, where she gave birth to a dead child, and from the war changed Isabel completely. She was no longer quick, ambitious, or sharp. She had become defeated, naïve, and gullible to the false promises George give her.

George would never see her marry off to anyone else. His greed and ambition had his eye laid on the Beauchamp fortune. Neither was Anne looking forward to a marriage. Whatever the consequences, if she were to stay with Isabel, it would not be in her favor. Either she would be forced to marry a man chosen by the Woodville Queen, or George would have her locked up in his manor until she goes mad.

***

Late at night, Anne gathered all the valuables she had. Hiding her face under a hood, she paid the valet with an emerald ring and asked him to sneak her out of the castle. The valet also vaguely gave her the direction to the Sanctuary of St. Martin le Grand. Anne thanked him and left quickly.

And never looked back.

***

Her only source of light was the moon since she didn’t even have a torch. The shadows on the ground frightened her as did every single sound from every corner. It was cold as well. But Anne knew there was no turning back.

She tried to recall every detail the valet told her.

Finally, she was overwhelmed and exhausted.

Anne collapsed against a stone wall. As hard as she tried, her eye lids became heavier and heavier. She closed her eyes and gave into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

When Anne came to, she was on the hard ground with a small crowd surrounding her. Climbing onto her feet, she ignored the onlookers and sauntered away. She looked around and found herself completely lost.

_Where was she?_

The bell rang.

It was loud and clear.

It gave her hope.

Following the sound of the bell, she managed to find her way. Soon, she was standing before a sanctuary. Anne placed the hood over her hair and entered the church.

***

“I am Lady Anne Neville,” Anne murmured before the priest. “I am here to see my son.”

“Your son?” The priest asked. After a long moment, he replied, “He is not here.”

“Do you know where he is?” Anne fell onto her knees. “Please, tell me. I need to see him.”

“My child,” the priest pulled her back onto her feet. “He is taken away and I do not know where.”

“Who was here? Who took him?”

“I cannot say,” the priest answered; Anne could not decipher if he meant that he did not know the ones who took away her child or that he was told not to say a word.

Before Anne could say anything else, the priest took her hands. “Let it go.”

“No,” Anne shook her head; she was on the verge of tears. “I can never do that. I am a mother, and a mother can never—“

“There is nothing that you can do,” the priest told her.

And that was the hard truth.

“I like to pray for my son,” Anne said quietly.

***

Anne did not leave the sanctuary after her prayers. Since it was the last place her child was, that she known of, Anne did not want to leave here. The priest was kind enough to offer her a chamber. And thus she stayed in the sanctuary.

Whenever she saw the priest, she would ask him to tell her about her son.

“He was only here for two days,” the priest told her. “He was brought here to be christened.”

“What is his name?” Anne asked.

“Henry,” the priest replied. “He is given the name Henry.”

Anne nodded. “My child…his name is Henry.”

“He is healthy,” the priest continued. “He hardly cried.”

 _He takes after my lord father,_ Anne thought. _I would’ve named him Richard._

***

One day passed.

And then two…and three…

Anne spent most her time praying for her son. Isabel once told her that the King would have him raised to be a priest. From Anne’s perspective, as long as the King does him no harm, she would not have any objection. Being a priest was much safer than being a King. Had the Lancastrians won, then her Henry would’ve been the Prince of Wales and eventually King Henry VII of England. But what kind of life would he have? Living in fear constantly and trusting no one. From Henry VI and of King Edward, it was evident that heavy lies under the crown.

Days went by, Anne became more accepting; and a thought came across her mind.

She went to the priest and sought for his guidance.

“I like to take the veil,” Anne informed him.

The priest gently shook his head. “No, my child. You are not ready.”

“But I am,” Anne said. “I am ready to renounce—“

“No,” the priest continued. “You are doing this for the sake of your son. You still want to be a mother to him. You are good and faithful, but you are not ready for renunciation.”

Hearing that, Anne gave him a nod and returned to her chamber.

***

The priest was right.

Anne was certainly not ready for renunciation. She still had people in her heart: Isabel, her lady mother, and her son. At times she could tell herself that she could move on and ready to be a nun. Yet, at night, her heart betrayed her. Whenever she closed her eyes, she’d think of her child Henry. What could he be doing right now? The nurse appointed to nourish him, is she good and kind? Would he be big enough to crawl? She sat up and held the pillow in her arms as if the pillow were her little Henry. Softly, she hummed a lullaby.

 _No_ , she thought. _I cannot stay here like this. I am going to write to the King or to anyone who can help me. I will seek the King’s permission to allow me to raise my son, at least until he becomes a man. I don’t want to be Queen nor do I want my son to be King. I only want peace._

***

She gathered her courage and penned a letter. It was addressed to the King.

Then another one to the Queen.

Then another one to Princess Elizabeth, the King’s oldest daughter.

Then another one to Duchess Cecily, her great-aunt.

She wondered if the King would allow it. She thought about Lady Margaret Beaufort, who has a son also named Henry. The child was now in exile in Burgundy and separated from his mother. The King viewed this Henry Tudor as a threat to his throne even though Tudor’s claim was distant and weak though valid. In comparison, Anne’s child Henry—legitimate son of Edward of Lancaster and grandson to King Henry VI—would be an even more of a threat…

***

Days went by and there was no response.

Anne tried to keep her mind at peace with prayers.

One morning, after she finished praying, she felt another presence behind her. She rose to her feet and turned to see her visitor.

It was a familiar face.

Dark curls, dark eyes, and ivory skin—a young man in blue doublet with a cloak over his shoulders.

Once, he lived in Middleham in the same castle…

Once, he was tutored by her own father, Earl of Warwick…

Once, he was cared by her mother, Lady Anne Beauchamp…

Once, he was a boy trained hard in the field…

And once, he could’ve been her betrothed…

Like always, his face showed no emotion.

“You are here to take me back to George?” Anne asked, keeping her chin up. “Or to the Tower?”

“Gentle Lady Anne,” he bowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's snowing and I'm bored so I posted this chapter.
> 
> Hope you like this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

The sight of this man brought her hope and sadness. Richard, the Duke of Gloucester and the King’s youngest brother, had grown up in the same household with her. He was trained and taught by her father Earl of Warwick, who also treated him like a son. There had been talks or rumors of a possible marriage between Anne and Richard; but nothing came out of it. After the fallout between King Edward and Warwick, Richard stood loyally by his brother the King. He proved to be a capable military commander in defeating the Lancastrian forces and controlling the Scottish boarders.

Since they were acquaintances, if not friends, Richard might have more sympathy towards her. Yet, Anne could not forget that he is also the King’s loyal brother.

“You are here to take me back,” Anne said, keeping her dignity.

“Your sister is worried about you,” Richard replied.

“Worried?” Anne laughed. “She is under the influence of your dear brother George, who wants to have me confined and keep me under his control. And his Grace the King, he knows why I came here?”

“The King does not hold grudge against you,” Richard said. “He only wanted to know if you are safe.”

“That I am,” Anne replied. “And you can go and report this to the King.”

Richard was not moving.

Anne turned away from him.

“If you are concerned for your son’s well-being,” Richard began.

“What do you know of my son?” Anne halted and went towards him. “Where is he?”

“Only the King knows,” Richard replied with a lowered voice.

“He is only a child…he has done nothing and knows nothing!”

“But in his veins runs the blood of a Lancastrian!” Richard reminded her.

“Isabel had told me that the King is having him raised as a priest, is it true?” Anne asked.

“Maybe,” Richard replied. “The King has not told me much, but it is likely.” Then he added, “The King has received your letter.”

By his facial expression, Anne could guess that her request of raising her son is not approved by the King.

“I am only a mother who wants to raise her son,” Anne said. “Nothing more.”

“But you are also Warwick’s daughter and the former Princess of Wales,” Richard said to her. “The King does not want the child to grow up knowing anything about his claim to the throne. If he were to grow up by your side, your presence will remind him of his Lancastrian lineage and of your father who once restored his grandfather’s crown.” He paused for a second, and then informed her, “King Henry has died.”

Anne misunderstood him; she took it as her son Henry has died.

“What…” She launched at him and was about to tear him apart. “My son…what have you done…!”

“No!” Richard grabbed her shoulders to calm her down. “The old King Henry died! He died in his sleep, or so he was found.”

Hearing that, Anne did calm down.

“Listen to me Anne,” Richard continued. “You are only your father’s daughter and did want you were told. You have done your duty as a daughter and wife. The King has pardoned you, but you need to stop asking about your son.”

“How can I not? Do you know what it feels like to have your own child separated from you since birth?”

“I do,” Richard replied, to Anne’s surprise. “I am a father myself.”

Then Anne remembered hearing that he sired two bastard children.

“The Lancastrian King has died,” Richard went on. “His son is slain in the battle and his wife Margaret of Anjou is now imprisoned in the Tower, and she will remain there unless the King of France likes to pay her ransom. Lady Margaret Beaufort’s son Henry Tudor is in exile. That leaves your son Henry the only legitimate Lancastrian heir to the throne on the English soil. He is about the same age as my nephew. If he were to stay with you, sooner or later, he will be a threat to York—if not to my brother, then to my nephew.”

“I don’t understand,” Anne muttered. “I will not raise him to rebel against the King.”

“You know the fate of Caesarion,” Richard said. “Too many Caesars is not good.”

Now Anne understood.

Even if the King could tolerate her son’s existence, same cannot be said for his son Prince Edward. Under his mother and the Woodvilles’ influence, he would not allow her son Henry—who was the legitimate descendant of Warwick and Lancaster—to exist on the English soil.

“If the King were to have him raised in the monastery to be a monk,” Richard went on. “Then it’s his blessing. He will live and be safe, at least.”

After a long moment, Anne nodded.

There was nothing she could do.

What Richard said was probably for the best.

“What is going to happen to me?” Anne asked him. “And to my mother? Am I to be under house arrest?”

Indeed, she did run away from the Clarences’ household without permission.

“I have asked to see you,” Richard said in a softer tone. “But I was told that you were in confinement or you were ill.”

“Really?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “I was ill, but I am better now. Why did you ask to see me?”

“Why’d you think?”

Anne said no more.

“Stay here, for now,” Richard was turning to leave.

“Wait,” Anne stopped him. “Are you coming back?”

“I will.”

***

He returned to the sanctuary a few days later.

And he brought something with him.

“I believe this will interest you,” he said as he handed her a document.

“What is it?” Anne eagerly unfolded it; she thought it might be something regarding to her son. But instead, it was a document from Vatican Rome.

“Papal Dispensation,” Richard informed her as she looked into it.

“Oh,” Anne knew what he meant. She folded the document and turned away from him. “Does the King approve?”

“The King has given me his blessing,” Richard told her.

“And if we were to marry,” Anne said. “You will get my fortune.”

“ _Our_ fortune,” Richard corrected her.

“Are you asking me to marry you or are you telling?” Anne asked. She wasn’t happy that Richard had everything arranged without even consulting her. Before he came back, Anne actually had thought about the possibility of marrying him. She had looked at her situation and figured that she cannot remain a Lancastrian widow forever. If she were to marry Richard, then she would be a royal duchess. Given Richard’s close relationship with the King, it’d bring beneficial to her, to her mother, and to her son. Still, she preferred Richard to propose sincerely than telling her upfront.

“You don’t have many choices,” Richard replied, to her disappointment.

So she was being told to marry once in the past; and now she was being told to marry again.

She remained standing with her back to him when he approached closer and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I believe you need a new dress for our wedding.”

With that said, he left.

Anne remained there holding the papal dispensation from Rome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caesarion (little Caesar) was the son of Queen Cleopatra VII of Egypt and Julius Caesar. Though Julius Caesar did acknowledge him as his son, but he did not name him as his heir; Augustus Caesar, his nephew, was his legitimate heir.
> 
> After the fallout between Marc Antony and Augustus Caesar, Antony joined forces with Cleopatra and they were married in Egypt whilst in Rome Antony was still legally married to Augustus' sister Octavia, with whom Antony had two daughters Antonia Major and Antonia Minor. With Cleopatra he had three children. After Augustus Caesar won the ultimate victory, both Cleopatra and Marc Antony committed suicide. The fate of Caesarion actually was not recorded. According to Ancient Greek historian Plutarch, Caesarion was sent to India by his mother for his safety but Augustus tricked back to Alexandria. He was supposed to be executed by Augustus Caesar under the advice that "too many Caesars is not good". 
> 
> Although commonly portrayed as a child or a young teen, Caesarion was actually a young man by the time he supposedly executed.
> 
> In a world where a King can be easily dethroned and/or crowned, a monarch is reasonably sensitive to any potential threat. Edward IV, Richard III, and Henry VII - are all the same. They usurped their crown and could not afford to show mercy to any potential enemy. Edward IV had Henry VI killed (supposedly); Richard III though never proved to be the actual murderer of the Princes in the Tower, his usurpation of the throne did led to the disappearances of the boys; Henry VII later executed Edward, son of George of Clarence, who was said to be simple-minded (in fact, Richard III named him as heir to make Anne Neville happy; after Anne Neville died he named Earl of Lincoln heir instead).
> 
> These victims - a crazy old man (Henry VI); two pre-teen boys (Princes in the Tower); and a simple-minded young man (Edward or Teddy in TWQ) - lost their lives because of their claims to the throne even though as person they were harmless.
> 
> In this fic-verse, Anne's son Henry is the legitimate Lancastrian heir and the only heir besides Henry Tudor. He is about the same age as Edward IV's son Edward (the baby born in sanctuary). Anne herself was Warwick's daughter; Warwick's men in the North was still loyal to her father. Thus from King Edward's perspective, it'd be the best if Anne were to marry Richard and have Henry be brought up as a monk. Being a monk would mean living in a monastery cloistered from the society. King Edward's ultimate goal was not to have this little Henry be seen or used to restore Lancastrian power.


	5. Chapter 5

Two men came to the sanctuary with two coffers. They opened them and Anne saw fine silks and fabrics. Behind the two men came two ladies and two seamstresses.

 _You need a new dress for our wedding_ , Richard had told her.

They bowed before her.

Anne gave them a nod.

After the two men left, the ladies went to Anne and unlaced her dress. The seamstress held up the beautiful grey silk as the ladies slipped her dress and her shift off her body. Together, they wrapped the fabric around her and took her measurement. It was then one of them noted that she still wore her wedding ring from her previous marriage.

“May I?” She asked.

Anne nodded, and the wedding ring was removed from her finger.

Her feelings were mixed at the moment; exactly how she felt, it was very hard to say.

***

Her second wedding wasn’t much different from her first—private ceremonies without pomp.

On the morning of her wedding, Anne took a bath. As the ladies poured water on to her body, she noted the changes. There were marks on her belly and her breasts had enlarged. She guessed it was because of her pregnancy. She hoped that Richard would not notice or care about the marks on her body.

These marks reminded her of her son Henry again.

She closed her eyes and held back her tears as she stepped out of the bathtub.

***

At the altar of the Church of St. Martin le Grand, there was Richard, who dressed richly and neatly. Next to him was Sir Francis Lovell, his best friend and confidant; he was here as the witness. Before them, Anne came slowly in her new dress. It was a high-waist grey gown trimmed with furs. Her hair was well plaited. On her neck was a sapphire necklace that matched with her eyes; it was a gift from Richard.

Quietly, she knelt side by side with Richard before the priest.

They exchanged vows and Richard pushed his ring onto her finger. In comparison, it wasn’t nearly as fancy as the one Lancaster’s. But Anne could’ve cared less.

***

Sitting in bed in her nightgown and pulling the cover up to her chest, Anne found herself in the same moment where she married Lancaster. She was nervous. She repeated to herself what her mother had told her before her wedding night to Lancaster.

_It will hurt, but only once._

_You will bleed._

_He will disrobe, and so will you._

_There is nothing to be ashamed about for he is your true husband._

_It has to happen, or your marriage will be invalid._

The chamber door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

Richard came in and bolted the door. Without a word, he began to undress.

“Is..is it okay to do it here?” Anne asked uneasily. They were, after all, in a sanctuary.

“I paid them well,” Richard replied as he removed his boots.

Without his shirt, Anne could see his tight muscles and the scars on his body. There was a long and deep one on his left arm. She tried to look away after he removed every piece of his clothing.

Climbing onto the bed and pulling the cover aside, he placed his hand on her leg and then moved up to her belly and then to her breasts. He rubbed her lips, and leaned over to kiss her. Anne closed her eyes as he kissed. She could feel him unlacing her nightgown. That made her nervous since she was never naked before a man, not even on the night she wed Lancaster.

It was all new to her because Lancaster only bedded her once out of duty. He never kissed her, touched her like this, or showed her any kind of affection.

“Do…do you want me to take it off?” She whispered.

The nightgown became loosen. One side slipped off and revealed her naked shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he replied as he cupped her breasts through her nightgown.

Anne moaned when he rubbed her nipple.

He held her close as he kissed her neck. His hands rubbed roughly against her nightgown, as if he wanted to tear it apart. Anne wrapped her arms around him and her fingers went down to trace his spine. She gasped when he pulled down one side of her nightgown, exposing her right breast. When he bent his head to lick her nipple, Anne inhaled deeply and threw back her head. She stroked his back gently as he sucked the hard tip of her nipple between his lips.

He had her nightgown completely pulled down to suck her other breast. He lied her down as he caressed her other nipple with his tongue. Pulling up the hem of her nightgown, he began to caress her sex. Anne bent her back when he inserted a finger.

Releasing her nipple from his lips, he covered her breasts with soft kisses. When he added more fingers, Anne bent her body again.

She didn’t know what was happening to her. Waves of pleasure consumed her body.

Seeing that she was ready, he spread her legs and pushed inside her.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt like her first wedding night.

Wrapping her legs around him, she began to follow with the motion and pace set by Richard.

She cried out as he thrust into her harder and harder.

Her body moved against his.

He held her arms up above her head.

They joined hands as they reached climax.

***

Their bodies lied intertwined on the bed.

Catching his breath, he stripped her nightgown off completely and threw it aside. Naked, Anne turned away and wrapped the cover around her body. But Richard pulled her back and held her against his chest.

Touching skin to skin, her breasts were pressed against his stomach as he stroked her bare back.

“You know how long I have waited for this night?” He whispered into her hair. “Too long.”

Anne said nothing.

She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

“Sleep now,” he continued on, as if he knew she was awake; his voice was very gentle. “You are safe. Even if the sky falls, I will be your fortress.”

Wrapping his arms protective around her, he kissed her on the head.

***

After he fell asleep, Anne opened her eyes.

She could not help but wondering the mysteriousness of her new husband.

Back in Middleham, Richard had always been a serious boy who rarely showed his emotions. She recalled an incident where George picked on him over and over again; and young Richard ignored him at first until suddenly his anger exploded, which scared George off. Now a grown man, he was still the same—stoic, quiet, and well-guarded. Based on their conversations before their wedding, Anne thought they were marrying for safety and political gain, just like her marriage to Lancaster. Yet, when he made love to her, he was like a different person, as if he had enormous love and care for her.

She had conceived after one night with Lancaster.

Could she have conceived again after tonight?

Anne thought of her son Henry again.

_Forgive me love, for I cannot be a good mother. All I can do is pray for you. You are taken from me since the day you see the light, but my heart never stopped thinking of you. They see you as a threat to the King, but I see you as a precious, innocent child who deserves to be loved. I do love you and I pray that you will know it somehow. Be good and faithful. One day we shall be together again in Heaven, as a mother and her son. My beloved son Henry…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress Anne wore on her wedding day is based on the dress Anne Boleyn wore on her execution day in the series "The Tudors".


	6. Chapter 6

Anne was only half-awake when she found herself in a pair of strong arms, holding her against a warm body. She was wearing nothing, and she could feel something hard against her. When she realized it, warm kisses showered on her face and neck.

His hand went to her breast and began to massage it.

“Is it time to go?” Anne murmured. They couldn’t stay here for too long.

“It’s still at night,” he replied against her neck.

He rolled her onto her back and made love to her slowly.

The lovemaking was very different from last night. He was much gentler but it didn’t give her less pleasure.

A long moment later, he pulled out of her.

He rose from the bed and got dressed.

Anne remained in bed.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked.

“The ladies need to dress me,” Anne replied.

“They are not needed,” he said, throwing the cover aside. “I will dress you.”

Anne blushed. Covering herself with a sheet, she sat up. Richard took her feet and slipped them into her slippers. Anne stood as he fetched her shift. She dropped the sheet and raised her arms so that Richard can help her putting her shift on.

Though he had made love to her twice, Anne was still not comfortable baring her body before him.

After the shift came her grey gown.

He had proved to be very skillful in lacing her dress.

He finished dressing her, placing a kiss on her nape. “I am taking you to see my brother.”

He didn’t say which brother; but Anne assumed it’s both George and King Edward.

“I am not afraid,” Anne said slowly. “I am my father’s daughter.”

“No,” Richard insisted and turned her so that she was facing him. “You are my wife and duchess now, remember that.”

_No, not the daughter of a man who betrayed the King._

_Nor the widow of Lancaster._

_She was now wife of Richard Duke of Gloucester._

_She was a member of House of York._

Like her sister Isabel, Duchess of Clarence.

***

Hand in hand, Anne came with Richard to see the King and Queen.

As Anne expected, George and Isabel were there as well.

Richard bowed and Anne curtsied.

“Allow me to introduce my wife and duchess,” Richard said with pride.

George let out a cold laugh. “So the Lancastrian widow is now married to our side.” Then he said to King Edward, “This marriage is not valid for they never asked for my permission and approval.”

“I have given them my blessing,” King Edward replied evenly. “I welcome Lady Anne Neville back to our side and grant her full pardon. Dickon and I both understand the need to keep Warwick’s men and wealth as close to us as possible.”

He gave Richard a smile; Richard said nothing.

Neither the Queen nor Isabel muttered a word. Isabel was not surprised at all, but she knew that George would not forgive her for allowing Anne to slip away under her watch. The Queen knew that sooner or later Anne would’ve married Gloucester. After all, she had set precedence when she married the York King after her Lancastrian husband John Grey was slain in the battlefield.

But there was more.

“Sister,” the King spoke to Anne. “Your son, I have named him Henry. Do you know why?”

Anne shook her head. “No, Your Grace.”

“There were three Henrys,” the King told her. “The Lancastrian King, Henry Tudor, and now your son. These Henrys keep me awake at night. One of them is now in heaven; and another one is in exile. I have one son, Edward, who is the true Prince of Wales. My wife and queen is expecting again. I do hope that it will be another boy this time.” He rose from his throne and approached to Anne. “I have two brothers and one son. My wife Elizabeth shall give me more. Soon, I shall see my brothers have sons as well.” He gave her a smile.

He turned his back to Anne and continued, “As for your son Henry, I have him sent to a monastery. He will be brought up as a monk. He will spent his days in his prayers and attend to his duties to the church. He will not step one foot out of that monastery.”

“Will…will I at least know his well being?” Anne asked carefully.

“No,” King Edward replied without a hesitation. “Just know that he is sent to a monastery and rest is in God’s hands. Be content with that.”

Swallowing hard, Anne nodded. “Your Grace has been kind and merciful.”

She curtsied deeply before the King.

Before she left with Richard, the King spoke again.

“Sister, you have left my brother Clarence’s household without permission. You went to the sanctuary to see _him_. I shall pardon you this time because I am a father myself. However, I will not do so again. I kindly remind you to never ask or even mention him, _ever_ again. From now on, you will have nothing to do with that Lancastrian child. If you choose to disobey, it will be an act of treason. Remember, you are wife to the Duke of Gloucester, whose loyalty is bond to me. Don’t not force me to take action against my favorite brother.”

A chill went through her heart.

“Yes your grace,” she said as her lips quivered.

Richard’s fingers interlaced with hers.

***

Anne left London almost immediately after her audience with the King. She did not say goodbye to Isabel. First, George would not permit it. Second, it’d only bring back painful memories from the past.

 _It’s fine_ , she told herself. _I will see Isabel again._

She sat in the litter by herself.

She wanted to be alone anyway.

***

They stopped at an inn.

They went to bed without a word.

She pulled up the skirt of her nightgown.

He unlaced his breeches and thrust into her.

She looked away.

After he made love to her, she turned away from him.

She made no objection when he stripped her nightgown off.

She lied on her belly as he stroked her back.

Slowly, tears fell from her eyes.

Richard said nothing; he continued to caress her skin as she wept silently.

She hoped that a child is conceived to fill her empty womb.  


	7. Chapter 7

And Anne’s prayer for a child was answered.

They returned to the North and settled in Middleham Castle, where they spent their childhood. From the moment she stepped into the castle, old memories came back to her. Closing her eyes, she could hear the sound of laughter—the laughter of a little girl, or her younger self. When she was little, she used to run around the Great Hall and giggle non-stop. Isabel would chase her and lecture her to behave like a lady. Of course, that was all in the past.

It used to be a family of four: her mother the Countess, her father the Kingmaker, her sister Isabel, and herself.

Now it was just her.

Only when Richard interlaced his fingers with hers did Anne realized that it wasn’t just her alone.

There was also Richard.

They were now the lord and the lady of the castle, just like her parents were.

Anne thought about her mother, the Countess of Warwick. She believed that her mother is still at the abbey under guard as Isabel told her. She wondered if she could talk to Richard about it.

***

They had separate bed chambers in the castle. However, Richard never used his.

Anne was surprised when Richard came to her bed chamber to spend the night.

Richard never neglected her bed. Overtime, Anne began to get used to his affections, touches, and sweet kisses. After their lovemaking, he would hold her close with her back to him. His hand would move to her belly and rub it gently. Anne knew the meaning behind that gesture.

She had conceived after one night with Lancaster.

And yet after countless nights with Richard, still no sign of conception.

Anne became agitated.

She felt as if she was failing Richard. She was his wife after all; and it was the wife’s duty to provide him an heir.

During the day and before retiring to bed, Anne prayed feverishly.

She wanted another child to fill her empty womb.

She wanted another baby to fill her empty arms.

And finally, one morning, while still in bed with Richard, Anne woke up plagued with sickness. The sickness was so strong that she climbed out of the bed and vomited. Her head was so heavy that it was about to hit the ground. Before she could vomit again, a robe was placed on her. A pair of strong arms lifted her up and carried her back to bed.

Anne buried her face into the pillows as Richard helped her putting on her shift. He called for a physician.

“No,” Anne shook her head. “There is no need for a physician.”

Based on the symptom, she knew.

“I think I’m with child,” she informed her husband.

Still, Richard called for the physician and a midwife; and both confirmed that Anne was pregnant.

Placing her hand on her belly, Anne gave Richard a smile.

***

Unlike her last pregnancy, the sickness was much stronger this time. It wasn’t just in the morning; it was all day long. Anne could barely eat. The smell of the food made her sick. The only type of the food she could tolerate was apple. Seeing her condition, Richard ordered the gardeners to provide extra cares for the apple trees in their garden. When Anne was well enough to leave the bed, he would take her to the gardens for a walk. The sweet smells of the apple and fresh airs would be good for her and her baby. There, she saw the trees with beautiful, fresh juicy apples and the newly planted ones.

It amused her to see Richard climbing up to the tree and picked an apple for her.

“I remember these trees,” Anne muttered as she took a bite on the red apple Richard picked for her. “My Lady Mother took great care for them. She loved these apples as much as I do. Every day, in the season, she would have the servants picked the apples in the morning and then she counted them. She made sure that none of the apples were stolen by the servants. These apples…she offered them to the ones in need.”

“You were a naughty girl back then,” Richard said, half-teasing. “I remembered how you tried to steal the apples from the basket.”

“It was only once,” Anne said. “I found an apple that is mixed of red and green. But the servants snatched it away from me, saying that it was cursed. I never believed it and I tried to find another one just like it.”

“Your mother is a fine woman,” Richard commented.

“Husband,” Anne began, seeing this as the right moment to speak for her mother. “My mother…”

Before she could finish, she gasped and nearly choked on her apple.

“Anne,” Richard had her sit on the grass and patted her back. After a few hard coughs, Anne finally swallowed it. Rubbing her back, Richard had her lying down on his lap.

“The baby kicked,” Anne said gently. She took his hand and pressed it against her growing belly. “Can you feel it?”

His hand rested on her belly as he felt the small movements.

“Maybe she’s asking for more apples,” Anne murmured.

“She?” Richard raised an eyebrow. “You know that it’s a daughter?”

Truthfully, Anne herself didn’t even know why she referred her child as a “she”. Somewhere in her heart she knew it was a girl.

“I just know,” Anne replied. “But I can be wrong.”

In her heart, she was craving for the day when her daughter was big enough to run after her in this apple garden. Large blue eyes and brown hair, small nose…

Richard said nothing. His hand remained on her belly.

Anne wondered if she had disappointed him. After all, all lords, princes, and kings wanted and needed a son.

***

Standing before the mirror, Anne looked at her reflection. She was about seven months pregnant now and her belly was huge.

Richard had left for London. Before his departure, he promised to secure her mother’s release and that he will take her in.

“You take good care of yourself, and our daughter,” he told her.

After Richard was gone, Anne thought about writing to Isabel. She knew her sister was probably not happy with her, but she hoped for reconciliation. Sitting in her desk, she stared at the blank parchment before her. She didn’t even know what to say to her sister.

Instead, she scribed a letter to someone else.

Her son Henry of Lancaster.

_My dear son Henry,_

_I have not seen you yet, but how have you fared? Have you grown? Did you get enough sleep? I pray that the women who are taking care of you are kind to you. You are my son, but you will not be cared or nourish by me under the King’s orders. But it does not mean that I never loved you. I still do and I will never stop. I pray for you every day; I pray for your growth and your safety. I pray that you will grow up a healthy, faithful young man with nothing but kindness in your heart._

_I am to be a mother to another child, but you will never be replaced because no one can replace you. Think of me at least once a day, as I think of you._

_Your mother,_

_Anne_

She finished writing the letter and folded it. She held it for a moment but then torn it in pieces and threw it into the fire.

Though she knew that letter will never reach him, writing it made her feel better.

Part of the reason that she hope that her unborn child is a daughter was that she didn’t want to think of Henry; she’d like a fresh start.

***

She went to bed with her lady in waiting, who helped warm the bed for her.

She had set up the quarter for her unborn daughter. Her lying-in and birth chamber was prepared. Midwives and net nurses were in order.

Her upcoming birth would not be like her last one.

She wished that her lady mother would arrive in time of the birth.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She slept well until she heard footsteps. Opening her eyes, she found a tall young man with brown hair standing before her. He looked familiar.

“You don’t even recognize your first husband?” He asked coldly.

Then Anne realized him. “But you…”

“Our son,” he began. “How could you?”

Anne didn’t know what he was referring to. “Our son, he’s well…”

Suddenly, a bundle was in his arms. “An eye for an eye. Your daughter for my son.”

He turned and walked away.

“Wait!” Anne’s heart chilled with fear.

***

“My lady?”

Anne was still sitting in bed covered in cold sweats when her lady in waiting lit the lamp.

There was no one there.

She only had a nightmare.

“I’m fine,” Anne said.

But she felt something wet.

Throwing aside the cover, she found her bed sheet wet and red.

_No…_

She stared at the stained bed sheet in horror. The lady in waiting covered her mouth in fear.

Anne remained stunned as a strong voice shouted, “Go! Get some help!”

She did not even feel the pain until the midwife told her that it was a girl.


	8. Chapter 8

In a litter, Lady Anne Beauchamp, the former Countess of Warwick, was clutching onto her rosary. Her eyes were closed and her fingers counted the beads as she prayed. But her heart was anything but calm.

_My daughter, oh my poor daughter._

The Countess could not stop thinking about Anne.

After her husband’s downfall, she sought sanctuary. Before leaving Burgundy, she asked to take her pregnant daughter with her. Margaret of Anjou said nothing and left the choice to Anne. To her surprise, Anne chose to stay with her Lancastrian husband and mother-in-law. The Countess couldn’t be more worried; initially, she thought that she didn’t hear her correctly.

“Anne, _ma petite_ , come with me!” the Countess urged. “You are carrying a child. You must consider for two.”

“But I am married to Edouard now,” Anne said without a hesitation. “He is my husband and the father of my child. I belong with them, and I have to stay with them.”

The Countess was flabbergasted. She wasn’t sure if Anne was angry at her for marrying her to a cold man like Lancaster or that her mind was poisoned by Margaret of Anjou. Before boarding the ship, she asked Anne to walk with her to the dock.

“You are not coming with me?” The Countess asked again.

“No, lady mother,” Anne shook her head determinedly.

“Why?”

“If it were father, would you leave him?”

Hearing that, the Countess understood. She knew there was nothing she could do to convince her daughter to change her mind.

She was disappointed but proud.

“Your father is proud of you,” the Countess said slowly, embracing her. “Take good care of yourself. Remember, if it’s a boy, name him Guy as your father always wanted.”

Afterwards, in the abbey, the Countess was worried sick of her children, particularly Anne. Compared to Isabel, Anne was more special to her. Unlike the women in the Neville clan, the Countess wasn’t as fertile. She had a harder time to conceive. Years after she married to Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the Countess gave birth to Isabel. A few years later, she conceived again. However, sadly, the child came early; it was a boy. Anne came along one year after the stillbirth. She was born bony but healthy.

The two daughters couldn’t be more different. Isabel was quiet, pliant, and ladylike; Anne was more active, outgoing, and tomboyish. While the Earl of Warwick had special plans for Isabel, Anne remained a happy, carefree child by the Countess’ side. Their daily walk in the garden was their special bonding moment. During the season, Anne would help the Countess gathering apples and distribute them to the poor.

It was a complete surprise when Anne ended up being the one who was to be Queen of England instead of Isabel.

Now with York winning and Lancaster losing, the Countess couldn’t stop thinking of Anne.

_Did her confinement begin?_

_Does she have a skillful midwife?_

_Is Isabel by her side?_

_Is it a boy or a girl?_

_And what is going to happen to my poor grandchild…_

When Richard came to retrieve her, the Countess could not be more relieved, especially after being informed that Anne was now married to him.

 _Good,_ the Countess thought. _My two daughters are both York duchesses now. They are safe._

She was debating if she should ask about her Lancastrian grandchild.

Before Richard could tell her anything else, a messenger arrived with urgent news. Richard read the letter, and his face paled.

“What is it?” The Countess asked.

Richard handed her the letter, and the Countess was horrified.

“We must go now!”

Hopping onto the litter, she was on her way to Middleham to be with her daughter.

***

After they returned to Middleham Castle, Anne was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t in her bedchamber or in the Great Hall.

The servants informed them that she was in the gardens. The Countess and Richard went straight to the garden, but Anne wasn’t there either.

“What is all this?” The Countess demanded angrily. “My daughter should be in bed, recovering!”

“We tried to tell her that,” a maid replied. “But my lady duchess refused.”

“Where is she now?”

“She is at the abbey,” another servant informed. “Providing charity for the children.”

Without another word, the Countess ordered the servant to lead the way. Richard silently followed behind.

***

They came to the abbey and saw a slim figure standing by the doorstep. She was arguing with a woman and then bent down to hug a child. The Countess recognized Anne instantly. She went to her to see what was happening.

Anne didn’t even pay any attention to her. Instead, her attention was on the woman before her.

“If she wants that apple, then she should have it!” Anne berated the woman.

She picked a shiny apple and placed in the hand of a little girl, who was crying.

“My lady,” the woman began. “My daughter cannot—“

The words had an impact on Anne.

The word _daughter._

Suddenly, Anne found everyone looking at her.

_But she’s not your daughter…_

Anger flared.

Sharply, she slapped that woman across the face.

“Get out! Get out of my sight!” She shouted.

Her behavior scared the little girl to whom she was offering kindness to. Frightened, she ran to her mother who held her protectively.

Seeing them thus, Anne could not believe what she just did. Controlling her emotions, Anne turned and saw her mother.

Her lips quivered.

“Anne,” the Countess opened her arms.

Anne swiftly turned away and ran back to the castle.

***

Anne was in her chambers. She refused to see Richard, and shutting herself away. Since the stillbirth of her daughter, Anne had not spoken much. She turned away from her ladies-in-waiting and kept herself busy—just to avoid thinking. She hadn’t cried yet. From the moment she saw her stained sheet, her emotions were numbed, except for a few occasions of angry outbursts.

“Anne?” A gentle voice called out behind her.

“I like to be alone, lady mother,” Anne replied evenly.

“Anne, don’t be like this,” the Countess urged and approaching.

“Then what should I be like?” Anne stared at her mother in anger. “I should be wearing a lady’s mask, hiding my pains and my true feelings? I should just smile and watch on as other women expanding their nursery?”

The Countess looked at her and was out of words. The person before her was like a stranger. She never saw Anne like this before.  

Anne said nothing more; she just looked at her mother. Finally, after a long moment, she broke down. She sprang into her mother’s arms and cried tearfully.

“My daughter, my poor girl,” Anne cried. “I never get to hold her. She was not even named.”

“What would you like to name her?” The Countess asked gently.

“Cecily,” Anne said, burying her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“Then her name is Cecily.”

Anne pulled away, wiping her tears. “Oh I don’t know what is happening to me, lady mother. I am not myself. I used to be happy. But now…I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Indeed, Anne used to be a happy and dutiful child. The Lancastrian marriage changed her. Still, even after married to a man who did not care for her, Anne remained a dutiful wife who played her role well; not even once she complained to her mother or to her father. But now, she was losing her dignity in the public; she hit people; and she shut herself away from her husband and mother.

“Anne, you are hurt,” the Countess said. “But you haven’t changed. You are still my daughter.”

“I lost two children,” Anne muttered. “ _Two_! One was taken away from me since birth, and the other…” She couldn’t continue.

Taking her hand, the Countess comforted her, “Anne, you must be strong. I too have lost a child. Before you, I had a boy…he came early. At the time, I was so lost. But then, you came along.” She paused and then said, “Richard is hurt as well.”

“Is he?”

“It is his daughter too,” the Countess reminded her. “Go to him.”

“No,” Anne shook her head.

“Anne, you must.”

Anne refused to comply.

“How are you going to have another child without being with him?” Her mother said, half-teasingly.

“I can’t,” Anne murmured, her voice barely came out.

“Anne, what is it, really?” The Countess asked. “Has Richard not been good to you?”

“Oh I don’t know!” Anne cried. “Richard…he’s...”

The Countess raised an eyebrow.

“He…” Anne didn’t know how to describe it. “He keeps things from me, as there are so many secrets behind his eyes. I don’t know how he truly feels. I do know that he wants a son, knowing that I bore a son for Lancaster…”

Her voice faded at the end of her phrase.

“Anne,” the Countess went to her. “Richard cares. He is guarded and keeps to himself—but that’s who he is. When he was under your father tutelage, he was like that. When he came to the sanctuary to retrieve me, I sensed that he is more upset that I allowed the marriage between you and Lancaster to happen than stood with your father after he fell out with the King.”

Anne was silent for a while. “He is not upset with me?”

“Upset?”

“I failed him…and humiliated him.”

“Oh Anne, it is not so!” The Countess insisted. “He is more concerned for your well being—“

“How could I know that?”

“Go to him then!” The Countess said. “Go to him and speak to him. You have much on your mind.”

Anne remained on her spot until the Countess nudged her. “Go.”

Slowly, she left her chamber and went to Richard’s.

The truth was…that in her heart, somewhere she had a strong sense that Richard had something to do with the death of her son Henry—if he is dead. Anne had yet forgotten the moment Richard informed her the death of Lancastrian King Henry VI; it was hard and cold. From time to time, she wondered if it was Richard who killed the Lancastrian King Henry, under the order of King Edward. As the King Edward’s loyal brother, he’d do anything for the King.

She was married to Lancaster and bore him a son due to her father’s ambition; and she was being punished for it; her child was forcefully taken from her.

For the sake of York, her Lancastrian child’s existence could not be tolerated. Something had to be done; and once again she was being punished—her daughter taken from her.

***

After Anne was gone, the Countess went to her chambers and began to pray.

She did not ask Anne about her Lancastrian child.

All she could do was to pray for his well-being.


	9. Chapter 9

Anne stood before Richard’s door and was about to knock. But, instead of knocking or entering the chamber, she just stood there. Then after a long moment of silence, she returned to her own chamber.

The next morning, from the window, she saw Richard departing Middleham Castle. Watching his figure becoming smaller and eventually faded, Anne felt guilty for harboring such horrible accusation against her husband—that he had her son Henry killed. After the stillbirth of her daughter, she had shut herself away and avoided him. During these times, her mind was plagued with thoughts and imaginations; some were reasonable and some were a bit delusional. That nightmare she had prior to the stillbirth of her daughter had been haunting her.

_An eye for an eye…your daughter for my son…_

Anne had seriously believed that Richard might have harmed her son Henry for the sake of York.

But now seeing Richard in person from her window, somehow all these thoughts were gone. True, he was cold and reserved; and yet Anne just could not see him as a child killer.

Her mother was right.                                                            

She should talk to him.

***

She went to the Countess, who was busying herself with embroidering. Anne was saddened at the sight. Embroidering was the most common activity for women who were either neglected or forgotten. Once, her mother was the wife of the most powerful man in England. Now, she was a nobody.

But she would always be her mother.

“Lady mother,” Anne approached.

“You haven’t spoken to him?” The Countess asked.

“No,” Anne replied softly. “He has already left Middleham.”

“My daughter, you must not lose your opportunity,” the Countess advised. “Your husband is a man with numerous duties. His constant absences are expected.”

Anne knew what she meant.

“I…I have turned my back on him,” Anne muttered. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Then make him come to you. Break the ice.”

“How?” Anne asked.

“Find a way,” the Countess replied. “You are his wife and you are the Lady of the North and Duchess of Gloucester. You must learn to build a strong, trusting relationship with your lord husband. Go now.”

***

Anne returned to her duties as the lady of the castle. She found an opened letter; it was written from a woman named Katherine Haute and addressed to Richard. She was ill, Katherine wrote. And she didn’t have much time. She beseeched Richard to take good care of their children, Jack and Katy.

Anne knew about Richard’s bastard children and it didn’t bother her. All lords sired bastards, including her father Warwick. Yet, after losing two children, it hurt her to see that Richard sired two healthy children, a boy and a girl. Anne folded the letter and bit her lips. Tears streamed down on her face. However, she knew what she should do. Besides, these children were conceived before Richard married her.

Remembering her mother’s advice, she took a pen and a parchment and began to write.

***

_Three months later…_

Richard returned to Middleham and surprisingly found Anne appeared before the gate to welcome him. Dogs were released; and behind the dogs ran out two children. He recognized them instantly. The boy and the girl were jubilant seeing him. They ran to him and hugged him.

Anne watched as Richard hugged his illegitimate children.

They were only children and Anne had not taught them the proper protocols to greet their lord father yet.

Taking his children by hand, Richard walked to Anne and looked at her gratefully.

***

She went to his bedchamber in her shift and robe; she left her hair down.

Richard was prepared for bed as well. The servants got the cue and left the two alone.

This time it was Anne who went to bolt the door.

After she turned around, she found Richard standing right before her. Without a word, they embraced. Anne was surprised at the strength of his arms. He held her tightly against him as if he was afraid to lose her. Finally, after he released her, Anne slowly went down on her knees.

“Forgive me…” She whispered, referring to the death of their daughter.

“No, Anne,” Richard pulled her back up on her feet.

“I…there was nothing I can do…”

“Don’t say that,” Richard said. “I’m grateful that I didn’t lose you.”

He cupped her face and was about to kiss her, but Anne stopped him. “Wait, there’s something I need you to tell me.”

“What is it?” Richard asked. By his tone, Anne sensed he already knows what’s on her mind.

“Before it happened,” Anne murmured. “I saw him…standing before me with a child in his arms.”

“Who?” Richard asked slowly.

“Lancaster,” Anne replied. “He accused me of not protecting my son, and told me that an eye for an eye. And then, it happened.”

“Anne, it was only a nightmare,” Richard said. “Lancaster is dead and he cannot harm you anymore.”

“Do you know anything?” Anne whispered. She was afraid to ask him that; fearing for the answer he’d give her.

“No,” he shook his head. “Edward kept that away from me even.”

Anne was silent.

“Because he knows how much you meant to me,” he added. “Do you believe that I can harm a powerless child?”

“No,” Anne replied. “But you are the Constable of England, and you have your duty to protect the King and the House of York.”

“I am not the Constable of England anymore,” Richard told her. “I gave that title to George.”

Anne was speechless, but she understood. She recalled seeing George’s hideous facial expression upon learning her marriage to Richard. He hadn’t said much before the King, but obviously he had done much more to hinder this marriage behind the scene.

Looking at Richard, as reserved and pensive as he was, his eyes were genuine.

No, he was not like George or Edward the King. George, by the look of his face, she knew that he couldn’t be trusted. As for the King, he was all smiling on the face, but he could be cruel and merciless at heart.

Richard did not speak much, but his actions showed it all.

Slowly, she nodded.

He reached out his hand, and she took it.

Hand in hand, they went towards his four poster bed.

***

Anne lied on her back with her arms over her head.

She had always been shy with her nakedness in the past; but tonight, he changed that. Anne smiled when she recalled the moment he had her sit on the bed and removed her shoes—her last piece of clothing. His lips traveled from her ankle to her neck, inch by inch. The position of their lovemaking was different too. He had her on top—riding him—while he gently sucked her breasts. At the end of their passionate night, Anne had learned to like and crave for the moment his lips touching her bare skin.

“You think we are to conceive again, after tonight?” Anne whispered gently when Richard rubbed her belly.

“Anne, I make love to you because I want to,” Richard said, placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

“Then why are you rubbing my belly?”

“I thought you liked it.”

Settling in his arms and resting her head against his chest, Anne murmured, “We’ll have more children.”

“As long as I have you.”

Anne said nothing more. She pressed her lips against his heart.

“Sleep,” he whispered against her hair. “You remember what I told you on our wedding night? Even if the sky falls…”

_He will be my fortress._

***

After Anne was sound asleep, Richard slipped out of the bed. He had her tucked warmly under the blanket and walked out of the chamber.

“What do you know?” A voice asked behind him; it was the Countess.

“I know nothing,” Richard replied, knowing what she was referring to.

“Do you love Anne?”

Richard halted; he looked at her and said, “I never stopped.”


	10. Chapter 10

Katherine Haute died.

She had been ill for sometimes, which was why she wrote to Richard asking him to look after their children. She was grateful to Anne for taking them in before her death, sparing them the moment of seeing their mother dying. Richard had been good to her and provided her good sum of allowance. Unlike other royal mistresses, Katherine did not spend it on luxury. Instead, she had been saving them in case she passed away before her children reached majority. She had a will drafted which left all her belongings and money to her children.

It was Richard who broke the news to his bastard children, Katy and Jack.

Anne wasn’t there; and she didn’t need to be. The children still saw her as a stranger despite her kindness towards them.

One day, while passing by the quarters where Katy and Jack lodged, she overheard Richard speaking to his children.

“You must see her as your mother now,” he said.

Anne stopped.

Then she heard crying from the chamber, for which she couldn’t distinguish if it were Jack or Katy. Both children were upset upon hearing that.

Anne couldn’t blame them. She too had lost a father, and she couldn’t replace him with anyone.

***

While overseeing the needs of Richard’s children, whom she didn’t see much, Anne was busy managing the account of the castle. She reviewed the account book and frowned. Without a hesitation, she took a pen and crossed an item off. After looking over the account book again and again, she crossed out several more items and added some notes. She then handed it to Master Steward.

“I made some changes, please see to that,” she told him.

She pressed her hands against the folds of her gown. This child wasn’t as active as her previous one.

But then again, she was only four months along.

***

“I see that you don’t want the nannies and wet nurses,” the Countess said to Anne, holding the account book.

“Yes, lady mother,” Anne insisted. “I don’t need them.”

After losing two children, she wanted to care this child herself.

“But that will hinder your duties,” the Countess reminded her.

“Mother, my primary duty will be to my child,” Anne said. “My child is also Richard’s heir and line. He’d understand.”

“You know it’s against the protocol to nurse your child. You are the Duchess of Gloucester.”

“Duchess or not, I am a mother.”

The Countess said no more. She knew that nothing would make Anne changes her mind.

“And you’re having the nursery relocated?”

“Yes, I want my child to be closer to me.”

“Anne, keep the nannies and the wet nurses,” the Countess advised. “In case if you are not well enough.”

Anne thought for a second, and nodded.

***

With her mother and husband by her side, Anne felt safe and secure. Her pregnant belly grew larger as months went by. Katy and Jack still could not see her as their mother, but they began to accept her. The Countess was sharp and very helpful in arranging her lying-in. As the date of her confinement approached, Anne spent time outside the castle for fresh air. She knew that lying-in meant endless time in a chamber without natural light.

But it happened before her confinement even began.

She was in the apple garden with her mother and other ladies in a beautiful sunny day; she brought Katy along as well.

“Look my lady!” Katy exclaimed and showed Anne an apple that is mixed of green and red.

Anne gave her a smile. Before she could say anything, she felt a sharp pain. It was very sudden and strong, so much that she dropped the apples and held on to the tree.

“Anne?” the Countess was alarmed.

“It hurts,” Anne muttered, sweating. “It’s happening…I think.”

The Countess quickly called the ladies. Together, they escorted Anne into the castle.

***

Anne grinded her teeth as the pain racketed her body. The Countess took her hand and Anne squeezed when the next contraction came. The midwives were very attentive. They spread herbs in the chamber and applied oils on her flank. One of the ladies was praying, invoking the name of St. Margaret, the patron saint of childbirth.

“You’re early,” the midwife told her. “But it’s normal.”

This labor was long and difficult compared to her first one.

The pain came and went; but it was exhaustion and hydration that impacted her the most.

After the labor lasted for a day, she was so tired that she couldn’t push anymore.

“No, Anne! You cannot give up yet!” The Countess urged.

“I can’t,” Anne whispered as the midwives wiped her forehead. “I don’t have any more strength.”

Relics were pressed against her palm. The midwives served her sweet wine.

“One more push!” They instructed.

She pushed but still no baby.

Between her heavy breathes, Anne faintly heard door knocks and the voices of men. The voices grew louder and louder.

“Is this a punishment?” She whispered. “Am I to die?”

“No Anne!” The Countess rebuked. “Stop your nonsense and push!”

Another day went by.

Slowly, the light went out and everything became dark. A hooded figure came to her and three cradles appeared. The hooded figure touched one cradle and muttered, “Die in bed…”

He pushed that cradle over and it shattered into pieces.

And it followed with the sound of cries.

She couldn’t distinguish if it were cries of a baby or cries of her own.

“It’s a boy!” Anne heard the joyful announcement and relief. Her vision began to clear, and she heard cries.

Cries of a baby.

“It’s a boy Anne!” The Countess hugged her dearly. “You have a son!”

“Baby…my baby….” She muttered weakly. _She had a boy, yes. But where is he?_

“He is being washed,” the Countess told her, relieved that everything turned out well.

“Where…where they taking him?” Anne asked with panic as the midwife walking out of the chamber with a bundle in her arms.

“They are taking him to meet his father,” the Countess comforted. “It’s the protocol.”

The Countess continued to speak to Anne, telling her how healthy and complete her son is and how wonderful it is that she provided Richard an heir. At the same time, the ladies washed her and changed her gowns and bed sheet.

***

Finally, after a long waiting, Richard came to her with a bundle in his arms. He sat on the bed and carefully placed the infant in Anne’s arms.

“I can’t…” Anne was surprised and disappointed at how mellow her arms were. “I’m too weak…”

“Shh,” Richard comforted. He wrapped his arms around her and supported her arms to hold the infant.

“He’s so small,” Anne said, studying his features.

“But he is healthy,” Richard remarked. “Thank you, thank you Anne for giving him to me.”

He placed a kiss on her shoulder.

The baby’s eyes were closed. Anne hungrily watched his tiny movements and every detail of his face. He had dark hair, like his father. She wanted to say something, but she was too tired.

“Sleep,” Richard whispered. “Sleep, you need to rest. I will watch over him.”

Despite her exhaustion, Anne fought against her drowsiness and tried to stay awake as long as she could; she cherished every second of holding her baby. Still, her eyes closed slowly and she leaned against Richard as she slept. Richard had the wet nurse take their son way; he had named him Edward to honor the King. He continued to hold the sleeping Anne and felt the rhythm of her breathing. Two days of labor had been too much for her.

***

That night, while Anne rested in Richard’s arms, a messenger from London came with urgent news.

It was a letter from the household of Sir Thomas Stanley, written under the instruction of Lady Margaret Beaufort.

Henry of Lancaster, Anne’s son from her previous marriage had died from fever. He was buried in an unmarked grave of a church unnamed.


	11. Chapter 11

Henry of Lancaster, the legitimate son of late Edward of Lancaster and Lady Anne Neville had died from fever; he was only two years old.

The letter was written under the instruction of Lady Margaret Beaufort, who had been a loyal Lancastrian who believed Henry VI was the rightful King of England. One of the most interesting ironies, Lady Margaret Beaufort had considered Richard a suitor after Lancastrian’s defeat, but that never went through. She was also Anne’s aunt by marriage when Anne was married to Lancaster. Now she was married to Sir Thomas Stanley and served the Queen.

Richard’s lips tightened upon reading it. He folded the letter in his hands.

He went to the Countess and broke the news to her first. Anne was still recovering from the long, difficult child labor. He didn’t want her to hear the news.

“Are you positive that the letter is trustworthy?” the Countess asked gently.

“Lady Margaret Beaufort has a son,” Richard said. “He also has a valid claim to the throne and is now in exile. He is only thirteen and she hardly sees him. She is now married to Stanley and serves the Queen. It’s reasonable that she can obtain such news.”

“Now her son is the sole Lancastrian heir to the crown,” the Countess whispered.

Richard looked at her and she looked back at him.

“I don’t think she can be that cruel,” Richard replied evenly, referring to Margaret Beaufort. “But she does have everything to gain from this.”

After a long, painful silence, the Countess softly insisted, “We must tell Anne.”

“She’s not well,” Richard told her. “We must wait.”

***

Anne remained in confinement for another two months. While recovering, she spent time with her new baby. When the Countess saw her nursing her son Ned, she told her that it was against the protocol. But Anne insisted.

“He is my boy,” Anne said. “He came early and he needs me. My milk will make him grow.”

After Ned was fed, his eyes opened and smiled at his grandmother.

The Countess smiled back.

“I am getting stronger, lady mother,” Anne said to the Countess. “Richard named him Edward and I can understand that. But, I do wish to have a son named Richard, after his father.”

“In time,” the Countess murmured.

“Regardless what his name is, he is mine,” Anne said, focusing on her baby’s little face. “No one is going to take him away from me.”

Seeing her daughter so attached to her child, the Countess was fearful for the consequences after breaking the news for her.

***

In a small but a splendid banquet, the birth of Edward of Middleham was celebrated. Under her mother’s guidance, Anne made his gown and blanket with the finest fabric. In the middle of the banquet, little Ned began to wail. Anne quickly had her son sucking on her little finger so that he could stop crying.

“His cries are strong,” Richard complimented as he touched his son’s forehead. “He’ll grow up strong.”

As Anne and Richard were focusing on their son, a messenger came. He was from London.

“His Grace the King of England congratulates you on the birth of your heir,” the messenger announced. “He gives his blessing.”

Richard gave him a nod.

Then the messenger approached to Anne, who was still holding her baby.

“The King also sends his condolences,” the messenger told her in a lowered voice.

“Condolences?” Anne raised an eyebrow. The first person came to her mind was Isabel. “My sister?”

Isabel had not written until very recently. She was happy that Anne gave Richard a son, she wrote. She also informed Anne that she was expecting as well.

_No, not Isabel._

“No, my lady,” the messenger said. “It’s Henry of Lancaster. He has died from fever.”

Anne nearly dropped her baby upon hearing that.

She nearly passed out until Richard supported her from behind. Taking a deep breath, she numbly replied, “I thank his Grace the King for his condolences.”

***

Anne kept her dignity throughout the banquet.

However, after it was over, she went to a chapel; alone.

_Forgive me, Henry…_

_I have not been a mother to you. I have not cared for you._

_All I can do is to pray that you are in Heaven now._

_Heaven…no war, no bloodshed, no exile…_

She prayed for a long time.

Quietly, Anne thought of her children. Henry was now dead from fever. Her stillborn daughter who would’ve been called Cecily was taken away for it—because she had not cared for him and thus he became unhealthy and died young. And now all she had was Ned.

“He’s with God now,” the Countess said, coming to the chapel to comfort her. “Fever has taken his life, but nothing can harm him anymore. He was only a child and committed no sin…”

Tears fell from the Countess’ eyes too.

“Cry, Anne, let it all out,” the Countess continued. “We can pray for his soul together. He’s happy now in Heaven.”

Anne burst out in tears.

She cried for a long time.

***

That night, she spent the night with Richard.

“It’s a relief that he’s in Heaven now,” Richard told her, taking her hand.

“That’s what my lady mother told me,” Anne muttered. “How long have you know?”

“A letter was written from Lady Margaret Beaufort,” Richard told her.

“Lady Margaret Beaufort,” Anne murmured. The name felt acid and poisonous on her tongue.

“I kept it from you because I’m afraid of losing you,” Richard explained. “You had such a bad time having Ned.”

Anne was silent for a moment. Then she asked, “Richard, do you love me?”

“I do,” Richard replied without a hesitation. “Perhaps I always have.”

He kissed her knuckles as Anne closed her eyes.

She remembered that dream she had before she had Henry.

_You will have three sons._

_One will be King._

_One will die in bed._

_And one will die from execution._

She had two sons by far. Henry died in bed.

She stopped there and didn’t even want to think any further.

Ned would only be King if the King, George, and their children were to die before him. The King and the Woodville Queen had three daughters and one son; and she heard that the Queen was expecting again. George and Isabel were expecting as well. If Ned were to be King, then it’d mean…

Anne rolled over and whispered into Richard’s ear, “Make love to me.”

She removed her nightgown and wrapped her legs around him as he entered her. All she wanted was to stop thinking about this.

***

Anne went to the nursery the next morning to nurse Ned, but only found her milk dried.

Wordlessly, she handed Ned to the wet nurse. She was glad that she took her mother’s advice on keeping the wet nurse.


	12. Chapter 12

Anne stood before the crib as little Ned gazed at her. From the innocence and warmth from his eyes, Anne knew he loves her as she loved him. Gently, she picked him up and rocked him in her arms. The wet nurses were good and had plenty of milk to nourish him. He came early, but he grew stronger every day.

Anne was very devoted to Ned. She bestowed all the love she had on this child. She was devoted to Ned so much that she became less attentive to her duties as Lady of the North and Duchess of Gloucester. Both Richard and the Countess spoke to her about this, but no avail. Anne wanted to be with her son as much as she could.

Her happiest day was when Ned started walking.

Under the watchful eyes of the nannies and the Countess, little Ned crawled up to his feet and slowly walked towards his mother. Anne gasped in joy as Ned walked into her arms. Her attention remained on Ned when Richard came to the nursery.

“So he can walk now,” he commented, smirking with pride.

“Go to Papa,” Anne whispered to Ned and gave him a nudge.

The little boy slowly and bit clumsily went to his father, who picked him up proudly.

“He’s going to be a fine knight,” Richard said.

While playing with his son, Anne saw something different about Richard. Was there something he’s going to tell her?

***

That evening, before Anne could retire, a letter came; it was written from Isabel, the Duchess of Clarence and her sister.

A war is going to happen, she wrote. _War with France_.

Anne was shocked to see that.

Both Richard and George are going to join the King on the battlefield, Isabel said in the letter. She was with child again; she already had a daughter Margaret and she prayed that this time it’s a son for George. At the end of the letter, she asked if Anne could join her in her household in London for her confinement. She was alone and scared; her only source of comfort was her daughter.

Folding the letter, Anne was a bit frightened herself.

War was hell. Nothing more and nothing less.

England had endured civil wars for so long and finally there was peace. But why war with France?

It was the King’s decision of course.

And Richard had to go to the battlefield.

Anne had lost her father in the battlefield; she certainly did not want to lose Richard.

***

She sauntered to their bedchamber. Richard was already waiting for her in bed.

Removing her robe, Anne climbed into the bed and muttered, “Isabel wrote to me. She’s with child again.”

“That should make George happy,” Richard said, a bit carelessly. “He needs a son, after seeing Ned and I have heirs.”

“She asked me to be at her side,” Anne added. “Since George is going to be fighting in France, as are you.”

“She told you?” Richard asked quietly.

“I’m scared,” Anne confessed. “I can’t lose you.”

“Anne, you are the wife of Lord of North and military commander,” Richard reminded her. “You have to be brave.”

Anne said nothing more. She reached out to him and they joined hands.

***

The castle was very preoccupied for the preparation of war. Everyone hoped that it’d end well for England and for the Duke of Gloucester.

Anne showed Isabel’s letter to the Countess, who was relieved to hear that her older daughter is with child again.

“Isabel asked me to be there for her confinement,” Anne told the Countess.

After a moment, the Countess nodded her head. “You should be with her. She needs you and you are sisters.”

It was a comfort for the Countess to see the two daughters on talking terms again.

“But I worry about Ned,” Anne confessed to her mother. “I can’t leave him behind.”

“You have to,” the Countess said. “He is not only your son but your husband’s heir. When he becomes three, he will be separated from you and began his upbringing as a lord.”

It was a harsh truth that Anne tried to avoid to acknowledge.

“Go to your sister,” the Countess urged. “I will look after Ned. I promise you.”

Hearing that, Anne nodded. She took her mother’s hands and kissed them warmly.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “Thank you, mother.”

Before she turned to leave, the Countess stopped her. “Wait, there’s something I need you to do for me.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to write a letter, to Isabel,” the Countess said slowly. “Will you give it to her?”

Anne nodded without a hesitation.

***

The night before his departure for war, Anne spent the night with Richard. In her silky white nightgown, she cuddled with Richard. Laying her head against his chest and stroking his tight muscles, she was quiet but she had much to say to him.

Since the birth of Ned, Richard had been more careful with her. Anne knew that he had spoken with the midwife and the physician. She did not know what they said to him, but she guessed it was about her condition after birth. After all, it had been a while since they made love.

But tonight it was different.

She wanted him to make love to her.

Maybe Richard wanted too.

Slowly, he pulled up her nightgown and stroked her buttocks and lower-back. Anne silently enjoyed his touch, and she wanted more.

He seemed to read her mind.

Pulling the cover aside, he had her lying on her back. Picking up her foot, he placed a kiss on her ankle.

He worked his way up from her feet to her knees, and rolled the hem of her nightgown up as he goes. Anne lifted her hip when his kisses landed on her belly. Letting out a giggle and a moan as Richard showered kisses on her stomach. Before he could do more, Anne pulled her nightgown off.

He cupped her breast and teased her nipple with the tip of his finger. Anne moaned when he replaced his finger with his lips.

The harder he sucked on her nipple, the more she wanted him.

“Richard!” She stopped him before he could suck her other breast.

She rolled over and climbed on top of him. Sitting on his crotch, she began to ride him. She rode him slowly and raised her arms to grab on to the rope from the bed curtain. Richard grabbed her buttocks and stroked the sides of her torso as she rode him. Every movement of her body and every sound she made besotted him. Her hands had yet released the bed curtain rope until they reached climax. Breathing heavily, she let go of the rope and rolled off him.

Lying next to him, she caught up with her breathe as his hand took hers.

“You come back to me safely,” Anne muttered. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Richard replied, pulling her back into his arms. “I will come back to you and our son.”

***

Before he left, Anne prayed for his safe return. Richard hugged his son and rubbed his hair. “You be good and strong,” he said to his little boy. “One day, you will ride along with me.”

From the tower of the castle, Anne watched as Richard rode away under his banner.

He will return soon, she hoped.

The day after Richard’s departure, Anne was preparing for her departure to Isabel’s household in London.

She held and kissed her son countless time.

“Mama will return soon,” Anne promised Ned. “I love you Ned. I pray that you will never forget it.”

The Countess stood protectively next to the nanny who was holding Ned. In her cloak, Anne climbed onto the horse and waved her son and mother goodbye.

The letter written by the Countess to Isabel was safely in her bodice.

Everything will be fine, Anne told herself.

Yet, at the end of her thoughts was the sound of ravens.

It brought chills to Anne’s heart.


	13. Chapter 13

Anne came to Isabel's manor where she received a warm welcome from her sister, much to her surprise. After all, they departed on a rather sour note with Anne married Richard without telling Isabel and Isabel had allowed Anne's child to be taken away from her. From time to time, Anne wondered if George would extend his anger on Isabel since Anne escaped their manor under Isabel's watch. Yet, it seemed, at least from the outside, Isabel fared well. Her belly was showing and she was very proud of her pregnancy.

Taking Anne's hand, Isabel walked her into the manor. The two sisters chatted about random things, mostly about motherhood. Neither of them wanted to talk about the painful subjects from the past. Anne could not understand why Isabel stayed in London; she felt her sister might be safer and more comfortable at Warwick Castle. Well, from Anne's perspective anywhere was better than London.

Still, it was not necessarily Isabel's choice; everything was up to George.

Her heart lightened after seeing her little niece, Margaret.

"She is a fine girl," Isabel said, picking up Margaret. "George adores her, but he wants a son. I promised him that I shall give him one, after his return from war."

Anne smiled faintly. Whether the unborn child is a boy or a girl - it'd be in the hands of God. Once, she overheard the Duchess of York telling her mother that a wife should never promise her husband such things that she doesn't have any control over.

Isabel handed Margaret to Anne. Instantly Anne remembered the daughter she lost.

"How is your boy?" Isabel asked.

"He is well," Anne replied. "Our lady mother is taking care of him."

Suddenly she remembered the letter the Countess asked her to give Isabel. Handing Margaret to a nanny, Anne fished out a sealed letter from her bodice.

"Here," she said. "It's from our Lady Mother, and she asked me to give it to you."

Without a word, Isabel took the letter and then threw it aside. Shaking her head, she muttered, "There's nothing she could do for me now, is there? I am here married to George...we have no place for her."

 _Not even in your heart?_ Anne thought disappointingly. 

"Lady Mother, she does care for you," Anne said.

Isabel changed the subject.

"You will stay with me," she said gently. "Like we were girls."

She sauntered away from the nursery, leaving Anne and Margaret behind.

***

Knowing it was hopeless to talk to Isabel about their mother, Anne let the subject drop. The two sisters spent time together like in the past. They ate; prayed; listened to the books and literature read to them; played lute; and embroidered.

"Do you know what to name your child?" Anne asked.

"Edward," Isabel replied without a hesitation. "By then, we each have a son named Edward."

Indeed, it'd include Duchess Cecily of York; Queen Elizabeth Woodville; Anne herself; and Isabel.

A lady-in-waiting came in with sweet meats and ale. She smiled gently at Anne and curtsied.

"Ankarette," Isabel introduced. "She has been my lady-in-waiting since I had Margaret. She has been helpful."

Anne nodded at her.

"Come sit with us," Isabel offered warmly.

Ankarette nodded uneasily and sat. Anne noticed her change in attitude, as if she were hiding something.

The three ladies ate and drank.

Ankarette peeked at Isabel's belly from time to time. She did not drink her ale; instead she stared at her dark reflection in the cup.

***

Anne did not trust Ankarette.

True, she had been very attentive of her duties and had not spoken much. However, Anne sensed that she is hiding something. Because of that, she stayed by Isabel's side as much as she could; at the same time, hoping that she had been wrong about Ankarette.

"This war with France will be worth it," Isabel told Anne. "George will be regent in France."

Anne said nothing. From Richard, she knew that the King did not trust George. On top of that, the Queen remained hostile towards him for the death of her father and brother. What Isabel had said sounded very unlikely.

***

The worst thing Anne had to do while staying in London was to pay respect to the Queen, whom neither Isabel nor Anne liked.

Standing before the Queen, Isabel curtsied gracefully. However, she held on to Anne's hands afterwards as if Elizabeth Woodville were an evil witch. To Anne's relief, the Queen said a few kindly words to them.

"Let's hope that we are all fertile like our mothers," the Queen told them.

Instantly, Isabel tensed.

The two sisters bowed and left the Queen's presence.

Isabel remained silent until they entered the litter.

"She cursed us!" Isabel whispered with fear.

"What?" Anne could not believe what she just heard.

"She cursed us!" Isabel said. "She said that we should be fertile like our mother...our Lady Mother only had us...what's going to happen to my boy?"

She held on to her belly with fear.

"Bella," Anne held on to her hand. "Let's go home."

Frankly, she did not know what to do with her sister. Her reasoning and thinking had been deteriorating more than ever, since she married George.

Anne looked outside and saw a tall, bony woman staring at her. That woman gave her a bow and Anne looked away, closing the curtain. She found that woman familiar, as if she had met her somewhere. Gathering her courage, she looked out again but that woman had disappeared.

***

Isabel's confinement began the night after they paid respect to the Queen.

When Isabel's water broke, Anne woke up Ankarette and called the midwives. Holding her sister's hands, Anne wiped her forehead and fed her wines and meats. Isabel groaned in pain and she endlessly mumbled things Anne could not comprehend. Comforting her sister, Anne whispered the words of courage. She pressed the relics of St. Margaret against Isabel's palm while the midwives applied oils to her belly.

Hours had passed.

Exhausted and dehydrated, Isabel let out a loud cry as the midwives pulled the baby out of her.

The cries and the scene brought Anne back in time - to that fateful night on the ship to Burgundy, where Isabel gave birth to a dead child without wine or a physician. The dead child - a girl named Anne - was placed in a chest and buried in the dark sea. Anne saw Isabel's pale face...it was not the sister she know. It was as if a part of her lost with her dead child.

Cries became louder and louder.

They brought Anne back to her senses.

Only then she realized the cries came from the midwives and the physician.

Her hand was still holding Isabel's, which was cold as ice.

Isabel's eyes were wide open but she was very still and had not uttered a word. 

The baby, a boy, was alive.

But his skin was black.

The midwives and other maids crossed themselves while Anne and Ankarette remained stunned.

***

It was the year of 1476.

Lady Isabel Neville, Duchess of Clarence died after giving birth to a child who died soon after; his skin was dark.

Only Anne and Ankarette had been her side throughout her confinement.

A few days later, arrest warrant was issued.

Both Anne and Ankarette were under arrest and taken to the Tower under the order of the Queen for murder and witchcraft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!


	14. Chapter 14

The York brothers had returned from their war with France. The King was triumphant, but his brothers were not. George's facial expression said it all while Richard kept on look elsewhere.

The glorious war that Richard had anticipated did not happen. The French King Louis bought King Edward off simply. In the eyes of Richard, the way Edward behaved was so out of character and hard to relate to that he could not see him as the same tall gigantic big brother he once worshipped. George mumbled how it was all because of the Queen and how the Queen had changed him from a warrior king to a worthless one. Richard had said nothing, but he was more than eager to return home to Anne and his son.

To their surprise, it was only the Queen and her brother Earl Anthony of Rivers who received them. Anne and Isabel were nowhere to be seen. The Queen was dressed in black.

Richard looked all over the courtyard but could not find Anne.

After he and George dismounted, the Queen approached them and muttered to George, "I'm sorry for your loss."

And that was it.

Taking the King's hand, she walked him back into the castle, leaving George and Richard stood numbly behind.

***

Anne was imprisoned in a cell in the Tower. It was actually a decent chamber and she was fed well. Ankarette was taken elsewhere. Each morning after she woke up Anne hoped it was all a bad dream.

But it was real.

Her sister was now dead; the baby was born dead and black.

She and Ankarette were under arrest for murder, treason, and witchcraft.

Anne knew she was not a witch and she had her reputation in providing charity for the less fortune in the North; in addition she was the grandniece of Duchess Cecily, a lady of piety. She wondered about Ankarette, whose behavior was suspicious from the beginning. She only prayed that Richard would return soon and secure her release.

She had thought of her poor son Ned. He was so small and needed his mother.

And Isabel's poor daughter Margaret.

Tragedies never ended for her.

She had endured so many losses.

***

"Anne is not a witch!" Richard insisted under his breath after the Queen informed him, George, and the King of what had happened. "She cares for the Duchess of Clarence - her own sister!"

"But evidence is there," the Queen replied evenly. "She was there with the Duchess of Clarence throughout the confinement. The child is born dead and... with skin black as the crow! Eyewitnesses and hard evidence! It's my duty to provide justice as Queen of England."

"Have you heard Anne's side of story?" Richard asked.

"There is no need," the Queen said.

"Her father Warwick had put the Countess of Rivers on trial for witchcraft," Richard muttered. "Now you shall have your revenge."

The Queen's face paled. "I do not hold grudge against your wife. She is not the only one who's under arrest for this."

"Warwick at least gave the Countess a trial," Richard said.

"And you like to put your wife on trial too?" The Queen questioned. "Is she strong enough endure the humiliation like my mother did?"

"Enough!" the King silenced his wife.

"This is Ankarette's doing!" George suddenly cried. "I never trusted her!" Then his eyes turned towards the Queen. "She had served your mother before she came to my household."

The Queen bit her lips.

"All right!" The King silenced them all and then gave Richard an eye gesture. "I like to speak with Dickon alone."

Queen Elizabeth and George begrudgingly retreated from the throne room.

"And George!" the King called after him. "Go home to your daughter. Don't do anything stupid."

George said nothing except for giving Queen a hateful look.

After they were alone, King Edward asked Richard, "Do you truly believe in Anne's innocence?"

"Of course!" Richard could not believe what he had said. "She is not only my wife but also your cousin and mother to your nephew who bore your name! You can't believe that she's a witch! More than that, Anne would never harm her own sister!"

"You believe that one cannot harm his or her own flesh and blood?" the King laughed bitterly. "Dickon, something has been on my mind for a while. You have always been honest and open with me and I never doubted your loyalty. But you have changed since the day I ordered you to retrieve her from the sanctuary and bring her back. Instead of following my orders, you married without even consulting me."

"You gave me your words-"

"And you married her with a fake papal dispensation with dates changed after bribing Rome afterwards," the King continued. "This doesn't sound like you, does it?"

"You too married the Queen in secret," Richard reminded him, knowing what the King was indicating. "Anne is not a witch and you know that."

The King paused and then said, "I have no intention to harm you or yours, and certainly not Anne. But the law is the law. Evidence is there. There are things even I am powerless to do anything about."

***

Days later, Anne finally had a visitor.

The chamber door opened, and Anne could not be more relieved upon seeing her visitor. Without a word, she sprang to him.

"Oh Richard!"

He wrapped her tightly in his arms and stroked her hair.

Putting all her emotions in place, Anne pulled away and began, "It's not true...I would never hurt Isabel, I swear to it."

"I know," Richard grabbed her hands and wrapped his hands protectively around them. "I don't believe a word of that accusation."

Holding back her tears, Anne asked, "How is our niece, Margaret?"

"She is fine," Richard replied. "She's not yet three, not old enough to understand."

Perhaps it was a blessing.

"What is going to happen to me?" Anne asked.

Richard hesitated for a moment. "The King has agreed..."

He could not continue.

"Am I to be executed?" Anne asked fearfully. "Richard, I am not a witch!"

"The King agreed to spare you and to allow you to return to Middleham with me under my watch," Richard told her. "But only if you agree to confess."

"But I have nothing to confess!" Anne cried. "I have done nothing wrong! I am just as appalled and angry at my sister's death and that of my nephew! I didn't do this!"

"If you don't, the Parliament could sentence you to be burned at stake!" Richard hissed.

"For what?" Anne cried in despair. "Why would I kill my sister?"

"There are rumors that you want your sister dead so that you can inherit all the Beauchamp fortunes-"

"Nonsense!" Anne spat. "If Bella dies, all her fortune will go to George and their children! I have nothing to gain except for grief."

"And that you are angry and hateful for the loss of your son with Lancaster and for George's mistreatment towards you when you were his ward. You want to kill a male heir of York to avenge-"

"Never!" Anne shouted. "I will never harm a child for the sake of anything. I am a mother myself!"

Her voice began to break.

"I am innocent..." Finally she broke down. "I am innocent....I never harmed a life...."

"Anne, I know it is hard but I don't have much time either," Richard told her gravely. "My brother is the King but he can only do so much. If you don't confess tonight, the Parliament will declare you guilty for witchcraft and murder. The Queen already had the testimonies from the midwives. And...the physicians...they found your sister's body completely black the next day. This is the _only_ way I can save you."

"And then what?" Anne asked. "That I shall continue on my life with such a reputation? And Ned would grow up hearing that his mother is a witch and a murderess? I cannot allow that to happen."

"Anne..."

"Richard, the Queen has always hated my father for beheaded her father and put her mother on trial for witchcraft," Anne said. "Now she shall have her revenge. I can only guess that my father's downfall is not enough. I am not a witch and I have never committed any murder. I cannot make such a false confession. If I have to die, then so be it."

Her voice was no longer broken. It was more determined with pride.

For that moment, Richard could see the shades of her father Warwick and his mother Duchess Cecily of York.

They stood in silence until they heard footsteps.

Both knew that their time was running out.

From Richard's eyes, Anne could see him asking her to change her mind. Knowing the man her husband was, Anne knew that he must have no other choice.

"Go now," Anne said, tears falling from her eyes. "Take good care of our son. Be kind to my mother. If anything happens to George, take care of Margaret."

The door opened. Guards were outside.

Richard had to go.

"Wait!" Anne called out before the guard gestured Richard to leave. "Tell Ned that I love him...don't let him growing up hating me..."

Richard nodded.

Anne could no longer look at him. Her eyes stared onto the ground.

She heard the door closing.

Nothing more.

***

And thus Anne spent her days in the Tower waiting for her sentencing. She knew Richard probably was still at London, not willing to leave without her.

She would stand on the stable to look out from the window. Any day could be her last day. She wanted to see the sun, the birds in the sky, the white cloud as much as she could. She spent the rest of her time in prayer. Sometimes she prayed for her son Ned; for her mother the Countess; for Isabel's soul; and for herself. She still had a little hope that she would be found innocent and released. Or at least, she would not be sentenced to die in fire.

Die in fire...too much...

She still had hope until one day.

As she watched from the window, she saw Ankarette.

Wearing only her white shift, Ankarette was dragged from the Tower by the guards. The poor woman struggled.

"No! No! I am not guilty! I swear before the name of God I am not a witch!"

Regardless of her pleas, the guards pulled her onto the scaffold.

"I am guilty of adultery!" Ankarette screamed. She tore open her shift, revealing her raising belly. "I am bearing another man's child! I shall confess my sins! But I don't deserve to die!"

"Satan's seed!" The guard and the priest crossed themselves.

The noose was placed around her neck.

The last thing Anne remembered was her dangling body before she lost conscious.


	15. Chapter 15

Ankarette wasn't executed.

She was murdered.

And the person behind her death was no other than George, the Duke of Clarence.

He was utterly convinced that it was Ankarette who poisoned Isabel and killed his unborn son.

While George behaved like a mad dog firing accusations against Ankarette and the Queen, whom he believed had paid Ankarette to done this hateful deed, the men who carried out his orders to execute the poor Ankarette were arrested and sentenced to die. A poor woman killed without a trial and she was with child - unforgivable. The men were hanged, but George was left untouched, for now.

Of course, Anne knew none of this since she was shut away in the Tower.

She spent most of her time praying. Any day could be her last day.

***  
Clearly, the men's executions were a warning to George. However, George's actions and behaviors went from bad to worse.

He spent most of his days drinking. Heavily inebriated, he mumbled things that the servants could not comprehend. Yet, apparently, his mind remained clear. He had written to his mother and to his allies that the Queen had paid Ankarette to poison Isabel and him. His brother the King had lost his reasons, he wrote. The Queen had bewitched him. Furthermore, the Queen had cursed him to die in the most brutal and horrifying way. Ironically, these so-called new allies of his were mostly former Lancastrians.

It certainly did not look good for him.

Three of his allies - who had received his letters - marched into the Court and declared the Queen a murderess; George's actions right and reasonable; and that the King needs to come to his senses.

To the King, that was the last draw.

George the Duke of Clarence was arrested and taken to the Tower.

The King refused to see him.

From her window, Anne saw it all. Shocked, she watched with her eyes widened as George being dragged in the Tower in handcuffs. She went to the door and watched from that small barred window. She began to hear sounds of struggling, cursing, and shouting. Disheveled and unshaven, George yelled out many things, from accusations against the Queen to the things she could not comprehend.

 _What is happening?_ She asked herself.

_Isabel is dead..._

_Her poor daughter left alone..._

_I am condemned to die as a witch..._

_Now George is under arrest..._

Anne only prayed that Richard would be left untouched.

Then she thought of her niece, Margaret. The poor child had lost her mother; and now her father was taken away.

***

"Ned, don't do this!" Richard pleaded.

"He left me no choice!" King Edward said, with his back to Richard. "I am the King, and I have to do what I must according to the law and legislature."

He showed the confession to Richard.

"He has an Oxford astronomer," King Edward told him. "Dr. John Stacey. He told me that George has employed a sorcerer to use dark art against me - curse me to death!"

"What has George said?" Richard questioned.

"Nothing," the King replied. "I haven't heard from him. He's nothing more than a madman."

"Then lock him up! A madman with no reason cannot do anything harmful against you -"

"Don't forget Dickon, the Lancastrian King Henry VI was a madman as well." King Edward looked at Richard and went on, "I am the King and I have to do everything I can to protect my claim to the throne and my family. George has committed treason. His servants have even confessed that he had wished me to die _and_ that my marriage to Elizabeth is illegitimate. The sorcerer he employed had foreseen that I will die young and my young sons will not be King after me."

Richard was speechless.

"He left me no choice, Dickon."

"Ned," Richard murmured evenly. "Speak to George. Let him speak for himself, at least once."

"You believe that can make a difference?" King Edward said bitterly. "It's not easy for me, Dickon."

***

King Edward stared at the unsigned document before him. Had he signed it, George would be executed.

His younger brother had always been a turncoat.

He had betrayed him, twice in the past.

King Edward had pardoned him and forgiven him.

But nothing changed.

The King closed his eyes and recalled the confessions from the servants who worked in George's household.

_The Duke of Clarence had hired a sorcerer..._

_The sorcerer had foreseen that the King shall die young..._

_And his sons would not be King after him..._

If he were to die young, then his son Edward Prince of Wales would be a boy king. Then he thought of Henry Tudor who was in exile. He had to be thankful that Anne's Lancastrian son was now dead due to natural causes. Had he lived, he'd be a formidable rival to the throne.

And he remembered Anne, who was still in the Tower.

She had not made any confession yet; and she had not been sentenced.

King Edward debated if he should release Anne and declare her innocent to make peace with Richard, who was obviously shattered by Anne's arrest and George's upcoming execution. But then again, if Anne were declared innocent, who was guilty of Isabel's death? She could've been died from childbirth, but her stillborn son was black as coal. The evidence was hard. With George's accusation against the Queen and Ankarette's unjust death, Anne's innocence would make the Queen look guilty. After all, Anne's late father Warwick had accused of Elizabeth Woodville of witchcraft.

"I see you are troubled," a formidable voice said coldly.

King Edward looked up and found his mother, Duchess Cecily of York standing before him.

"Lady Mother," King Edward was surprised and rose to kiss her hand.

"I see you have changed," Cecily remarked. "Have you enjoyed too much of your appetite?"

"Lady Mother-"

"I have heard," Cecily interrupted him. "You have Anne under arrest and you are going to execute George, your own flesh and blood. I am only relieved that your father did not live to see this."

"George has committed treason," King Edward stood his ground. "You know that this day is going to come since that day he joined forces with Warwick against me!"

"But must you kill him?" Cecily questioned. "You can have him locked up and lands confiscated."

"I am the King! I must do what I must!"

Cecily stared at this man before her like a stranger. From the look in his eyes, she knew what truly was bothering him.

"You are afraid," Cecily said. "I know you because I am your mother. You elevated Elizabeth's family to form a fortress around you against Warwick. In turn, you angered Warwick and he rebelled."

"He was the one who declared you a whore mother!" King Edward reminded her.

"And I have forgiven him," Cecily replied.

King Edward looked at her in disbelief.

"I have forgiven many," Cecily went on. "How could I live on my life if I don't? I have lost so many, your Lord Father, Edmund...Now must I forgive you for killing your brother?"

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

"You are scared and grew suspicious of everyone!" Cecily pointed out. "Since Warwick's brief victory of restoring the Lancastrian King, you had not been the same. Now, you don't even trust your own brothers. I can understand your feelings towards George, but Richard...and Anne! How can you believe a good child like her practicing witchcraft? She is your nephew's mother and my grandniece! I know this child and she's not a witch!"

King Edward said nothing.

"Dickon had disobeyed you the first time because of Anne," Cecily said as if she could read what's in his heart. "Be aware of your actions, my son. There are people in Court who had written to me, fearing that it's _her_ who has talked to you into this. Anne's father Warwick had been her enemy; and George had executed her father and brother."

"Then tell me, what should I do?"

"Let George and Anne speak for themselves. Have them had a trial?"

"No," King Edward shook his head. "George has gone mad. And Anne...can she endure such a humiliation?"

"You have _already_ humiliated her by sending her to the Tower and declared her guilty of witchcraft!" Cecily eyes were fierce. Now King Edward felt like a misbehaved child who was caught in a corner with nowhere else to turn. "You have yourself trapped."

"I can have Anne sentenced with walk of penance," King Edward said. "And then have her released."

"And George?"

King Edward said nothing.

"You are the King and do what you must. But remember, what is done cannot be undone. May God have mercy on you, my son."

***

A heavy butt of malmsey wine was dragged down the hall.

Anne watched from the barred window and was bewildered.

Then suddenly, horror came to her.

She sank on to the hard ground, not moving.

The next morning, George was dead.

Rumors had it that he was drowned in the butt of malmsey wine.

If the Woodville Queen had cursed him to die in a horrifying, brutal death, as he had accused her of, then one wouldn't have thought otherwise.

***

George was now dead. His titles and lands were confiscated.

What remains was Anne.

The King had considered having her walk the penance and then releasing her to Middleham.

But his thoughts were interrupted by the Queen's sister, Mary.

"Your Grace," she uttered, with her face ashen. "His Grace Prince George...he..."

"What about him?"

"He's dying," Mary said. "The physicians believe he shall not survive the night."

The King rushed out of his study, leaving Anne's unsigned warrant behind.

The little prince was unconscious and burned high fever. The Queen was by his bedside, wiping his head.

"George..." The King murmured. That name sounded oddly on his tongue. Saying that name was like a taste of poisonous wine.

The little prince did not survive the night.

He died at the exact hour George was executed.

At the other quarter of the Windsor Castle, Richard was informed of the news.

"Sins of father," he said, while tossing a letter into the fire.

***

Footsteps were heard in the Tower, approaching closer and closer to her chamber.

"I believe I die tonight," Anne whispered to herself.

The door was opened and three men appeared before her.

Gathering her courage, Anne stood with her head high.

One of them handed her a cloak.

"I don't need your pity," Anne said with pride.

"You need it tonight, my lady."

With that cloak around her shoulders, Anne followed them.


	16. Chapter 16

She was setting on the hard ground when the door was opened. Two women appeared before her, cold as ice.

She knew what was coming for her; it would be hard but she will survive.

The women bore no patience for her. They'd yank her up on her feet if she doesn't move now. With her legs shivering under her skirt, she forced herself to stand. The women escorted her out of her cell and then down the hall, before a small audience.

They were not her friends or her sympathizers.

Some of them, or maybe most of them, were rather curious.

She tried to keep her eyes on the ground when a loud voice read her charges and sentence.

_Walk of penance..._

_Forfeit all the fortunes and jewels bestowed by the late King..._

The two women who escorted her came behind her and stripped her gown off. Granted, it was a gift from the King.

The necklaces around her neck and bracelets on her wrist followed as well as her headdress. Only then did the audience realize that she was far from being a young, seductive redhead. Without her headdress, locks of white hair revealed. Alas, she was a woman in her forties.

Just as she thought it was over, she heard some whispering behind her about the slippers.

Yes, the slippers were from the King as well.

The women grabbed her ankle and took her slippers away too.

So she would walk the penance on bare foot.

"Is her kirtle from the late King too?" Someone asked out loud followed by howls of laughter.

Thankfully, no one took it seriously.

She was escorted out of the prison where sunlight blinded her eyes. A taper was placed into her hand.

Although Jane Shore was never a noblewoman, she wasn't ever dirt poor. Wearing slippers most of her life, to walk barefoot against the hard ground was cold and painful. A crowd was gathered on the street with curious onlookers who wanted to take a peek at the late King's favorite mistress. In her kirtle, under the sunlight, the rowdy men looked hard at her, hoping to see the curves of her body though the linen.

By the time it was over, her feet were bloody and Jane clasped on the ground.

Still not sympathy.

She was taken back to the prison on the order of Richard, Lord Protector.

Some said that the lighthearted Jane Shore and the stern Richard of Gloucester never got along because of their personality differences while others said that the Lord Protector never liked anyone in the King's inner circle. Only a few close to the Lord Protector would know the true reason behind his hatred and anger towards Jane Shore, his later brother's former mistress.

The Walk of Penance was the punishment the King had sentenced Lady Anne Neville, wife to Lord Protector.

Soon, her two lovers after the death of King Edward were taken to the block; Sir Thomas Grey and Sir William Hastings.

This time under the order Richard, the yet to be crowned King of England.

***

**_London, 1483_ **

In the sanctuary of St. Martin-le-Grand, Anne looked out from the window.

The King was dead, she had heard. And England was now under the reign of a boy King Edward V with Richard of Gloucester as Lord Protector.

_Richard..._

With tears in her eyes, Anne reminisced the night she saw him the last time.

It was ten years ago.

***

**_London, 1473_ **

She was imprisoned in the Tower on the charge of witchcraft. While in her jail chamber, she witnessed the arrest and possibly execution of George of Clarence. Richard had come to her asking her to answer to the charges in exchange of her freedom, to which she refused. Isabel, George, Ankarette...all dead.

Then one night, a guard came to her chamber and escorted her out of the Tower. Initially, Anne thought she was going to meet her end. She prayed silently and feverishly. Was she to die in fire?

To her surprise, she was placed in a litter.

And she was brought to here - the Sanctuary of St. Martin-le-Grand, where she stayed after escaping from George's manor and where she married Richard.

And thus she came back to where it all began.

Before her, there was a tall woman. After a moment, she recognized her as Duchess Cecily of York, mother to the King and Richard. Anne collapsed in the Duchess' arm and cried incessantly. Duchess Cecily cried too. The two women wept for themselves and their loved ones.

"You are safe here, Anne," Duchess Cecily assured her. "The King may have an army of thousands men, but he can never do anything to you while you are here."

"What is happening?" Anne asked.

"The King is sentencing you the walk of penance," Duchess Cecily told her. "George has killed Ankarette and now met his own end. The King knows you are not a witch, but to protect the Queen, he must..."

Walk the penance...public humiliation and being condemned as a witch, Anne shivered at the thought. Suddenly, Margaret of Anjou came to her mind. The French-born Lancastrian Queen was paraded on the street with countless onlookers spat at cursed at her. Anne would rather die than endure such a humiliation.

"What can we do now?" Anne asked.

Yes, she was here safe. But what's next?

"You must stay here," Duchess Cecily said. "Dickon knows that you are here. Now, we must wait... for the day the King grants your pardon and release."

"How long will that be?"

Duchess Cecily was silent.

Anne fell onto the ground. She would be safe here but she would not be able to see Richard or her young son. She shall wait for the King's pardon, but that could be years.

"Anne," Duchess Cecily comforted her. "It is for the best."

"Where is Richard?"

"He is still in London," Duchess Cecily told her. "And you must convince him to return to the North."

Anne knew what she meant - Richard would never leave London without her.

"He will be here soon," Duchess Cecily murmured. "Convince him to leave and go back to Middleham to be with your son. Your Ned needs his father. We shall all pray. One day, you will be reunited with Richard and your son."

Anne continued to weep, but in the end, she nodded.

After all, Richard could not stay in London forever. Her son Ned needed him, as well as North and Middleham.

***

Their farewell was bid with a barred door in between them.

Both knew that if the door was opened, Richard would take Anne away with him. They could've left London in time, but Anne would be a fugitive and Richard could be charged with treason.

The two looked at each other for a long time until Anne muttered, "Go Richard. Go back to North; to our son. Tell him, that I never stop loving him. Tell him, that I will come back to him once all the apples in the gardens reddened."

Apples grew and fell; never had all of them redden.

Finally, he turned and moved away.

By his movement, Anne knew it was in pain by heart.

She stood and watched until his figure disappeared.

And thus they were separated for ten years.

***

**_London, 1483_ **

A visitor came to the sanctuary. He dressed simply.

By first glance, Anne didn't recognize him; but once he spoke, Anne knew who he was instantly.

"Sir Francis!"

"My Lady Anne!" Sir Francis Lovell bowed very deeply. He took out a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to her. Anne's hands shook as she opened the letter. After she read it, she was stunned.

"His Grace King Richard is waiting for you," Francis told her.

"He is the King now," Anne muttered under her breath. _My Most Beloved Consort,_ he addressed her as thus in the letter. _We are safe now. England is ours. I am waiting for you to join me for I will not be crowned without my rightful queen._

It was signed as Richard Rex.

When Anne looked up from the letter, she realized that Francis was expecting her to follow him out of the sanctuary.

But she couldn't.

"I need some time," Anne told him. "Can you give me a day?"

After a moment, Francis bowed and kissed her hand.

***

The next day, Duchess Cecily came to the sanctuary; she had secretly visited Anne from time to time. While King Edward was alive, he had suspected it was Duchess Cecily who rescued Anne from the Tower and hid her in some sanctuary; but he never asked or mentioned anything about Anne again.

"Dickon is King now," Duchess Cecily told her.

"What about the boy?" Anne asked softly, referring to Edward V.

"He is in safe hands," Duchess Cecily replied. "The boy is heavily under the influence of his mother and her relatives. Dickon will likely to follow the path of his father had he not taken the throne. He did this for you, your son, and for England."

"And the Queen?"

"She is no longer the Queen. Her marriage to my son is invalid."

Anne's eyes widened.

"Ned had a precontract of marriage with another lady before that Woodville woman," Duchess Cecily said, shaking her head. "Thus make his marriage to that Woodville woman invalid. All their children are declared bastards."

"They are your grandchildren too," Anne said, taken aback by Cecily's lack of sympathy towards King Edward's children.

"They are, as George was my son," Duchess Cecily said. "I had sons and with only one left. If England has no peace, then more of my children and grandchildren shall suffer, legitimate or bastards."

Anne was silent.

"Dickon is translating the written laws and statutes into English from traditional French," Duchess Cecily continued. "He will have all Englishmen to have a trial before declared guilty. He is doing all of this for you."

Indeed, Anne was declared guilty of witchcraft by Elizabeth Woodville without a trial.

"Go Anne," Duchess Cecily urged. "Go, my child. Be with Dickon and your son. Your time has come. Remember, Elizabeth Woodvlle had made her enemies in court and came to her end. Don't repeat that mistake. Be a graceful and beauteous queen to Richard and bring peace and happiness to England."

Finally, Anne made a step.

And another.

And another.

She made it to the door.

From behind, Duchess Cecily watched as the door opened and Anne stepped out into the light.

***

Anne found a crowd was gathered before the sanctuary.

They all curtsied upon seeing her.

A litter arrived before her.

From the litter, climbed out a man.

Anne's heart pounded heavily upon seeing him.

After him, climbed out a boy of ten; he had dark hair and dark eyes.

Taking the boy's hand, the man - Richard - approached her.

"Do you know who I am?" Anne asked the boy, holding back her emotions.

"Yes, you are my lady mother," the boy, Ned, replied. He took out two red apples from his pocket. "Papa told me that I will see you when all the apples in the garden become red. And they are red!"

Without another word, Anne embraced her son and held him tightly against her bosom and wept silently.

The three - Richard, Anne, and Ned - walked hand in hand away from the sanctuary.

A new beginning for them as King, Queen, and Prince of Wales.


	17. Chapter 17

The bells tolled heavily as black veil was draped over her head.

In her black mourning gown, Anne stood numbly in the Westminster Abbey.

Her boy...her poor boy.

Not long ago, she had stepped out of the Sanctuary of St. Martin-le-Grand and reunited with her husband Richard and her son Ned. The ten-year old boy was more than jubilant to see his mother.

She and Richard had a splendid joint coronation. Among the attendees was Lady Margaret Beaufort, who carried her train. Anne received her with mixed feelings. Years ago, it was Margaret Beaufort who wrote to Richard to inform them about the death of Henry of Lancaster, Anne's son with Edward of Lancaster. Despite her reputation for piety, Anne knew that she was more than a pious lady who spent her time praying.

She was a loyal Lancastrian, once.

And she had a son with a legitimate claim to the English throne.

Richard later explained that they needed to befriend her and keep her son from claiming the throne; but Anne was sure that Margaret Beaufort is not to be trusted. This woman was Lancastrian by blood; mother to a claimant of the crown; wife to Sir Thomas Stanley and godmother to Bridget, the youngest daughter of Elizabeth Woodville and the late King Edward. She had friends everywhere.

Before their coronation ceremony, Richard presented her a gift.

It was a beautiful sapphire ring.

"It will protect you against evil spirit," Richard said, after slipping that ring onto her finger. "I will not lose you again, my beloved consort."

The coronet was placed on her head and she was anointed as England's queen.

Anne thought of her father as she sat into the hard, cold throne. At last, one of his daughters was Queen of England.

But Anne cared less about being the lady with the highest rank; all she wanted was to be safe and sound.

However, her life as queen consort was anything but peaceful. Elizabeth Woodville had sought sanctuary with her daughters. By this gesture alone, it was obvious she does not accept Richard's claim as King of England. Her sons, Edward and Richard, were placed in the Tower under Richard's guardianship. Richard had assured Anne that he will not harm them.

Then, one night, Anne found Richard sitting alone in his study, visibly shaken.

The boys had disappeared.

Initially, Anne didn't understand.

_Disappeared?_

"They are gone," Richard whispered.

The two boys disappeared in thin air, it seemed. Even if they were dead, there was no body to prove.

"I didn't do it," Richard said to her. Seeing the dark rings under his eyes and his pale and unshaven face, Anne took his hand and nodded.

"I believe you, Richard," Anne told him. "I know that you would never hurt these boys."

In her heart, Anne was more than saddened.

Edward and Richard were only children, despite being Elizabeth Woodville's sons. But royal princes, they were born to be political pawns and potential sacrifices of the politics and war.

After the disappearances of the princes, Buckingham rebelled. He had been Richard's right hand man, especially after the death of Edward IV. The rebellion failed and Richard had Buckingham beheaded publicly.

"It was him," Richard said, voice barely audible. "He did it."

Anne knew what he was referring to; she said nothing to that and only held him closely to her.

"We need to tell Elizabeth," Anne told him. "She needs to know who her sons' true murderer is. We must to have peace."

So she and Richard went to see Elizabeth Woodville at the Westminster Abbey. After a lengthy conversation, Elizabeth agreed to come out of the sanctuary. Before leaving, Anne caught a glimpse of Elizabeth's daughters, Bess and Cecily. The poor girls, she thought.

And thus she suggested that Bess and Cecily to come to Court.

Everything seemed to be well until one night her son Ned developed a fever and died.

Anne was in total shock.

In the midst of rebellions and scandals, Ned had been Richard and Anne's sole comfort and light of the day. He had spent most of his time with his mother. Through Ned, Anne learned how much Richard loved and cherished her.

"Papa told me to pray for you every night," Ned had told her. "He walked with me in the apple garden every day. He told me that when I'm old enough, I must keep your apple garden safe and sound. And when you come back, you will be happy."

But now, Ned was dead.

***

In the sanctuary, Anne stood next to Richard and stared blankly at the coffin before her.

Her son.

Hadn't she suffered enough?

Hadn't she lost enough?

Ned was her one and only child and yet he had to be taken from her.

"Anne," Richard called her.

She didn't respond. It was as if her soul went with Ned.

"Anne," Richard reached out his hand.

Anne remained stone and silent.

Slowly, Bess stepped forward.

She picked up Richard's hands, and then Anne's.

She placed Anne's hand into Richard's.

Then she stepped back.

Finally, Anne responded.

Her fingers wrapped around his.

***

 _He is suffering too,_ Anne thought. _He needs me._

After her son was buried, she had thought about taking the veil. After all, she had buried too many loved ones and did spent ten years in sanctuary. Perhaps that was her true destiny. But then, seeing how Richard was, Anne decided against it.

She also realized the other loved ones in her life, who are still there.

Richard's illegitimate children, Katy and Johnny.

Her niece and nephew, Margaret and Edward of Warwick.

And Elizabeth Woodville's daughters Bess and Cecily had been kind as well.

And she had her mother, the Countess of Warwick.

That night, she went to Richard's bedchamber.

Wordlessly, she slipped her robe and nightgown off her body. Completely bare, she climbed into his bed. She lied on her back and placed her arms over her head as Richard covered her body with kisses. She inhaled deeply when he sucked her breasts. Wrapped her legs around him, she gave him a nod.

_Make love to me, and we shall conceive an heir._

Holding her arms down, he dug hard into her.

Anne moaned and curved her body against his.

The lovemaking continued until both were utterly exhausted.

His hand went to her belly and rubbed it.

Slowly, Anne closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, praying a life was forming inside.

***

_Four months later_

Anne was embroidering with her mother, Bess, Cecily, and her niece Margaret when Richard came to see her. By his facial expression, Anne knew something grave was about to come. She gave the other ladies a nod. They curtsied and left them alone.

"What is it?"

He went to her and drew her to him.

He placed a hand on her growing belly.

"I have Margaret Beaufort imprisoned in the Tower," Richard told her.

"It's the right thing to do," Anne said. "You had her put under her husband Thomas Stanley's watch. I don't trust either of them."

"She has become too dangerous."

Indeed, her son Henry Tudor was raising an army to invade from Burgundy. Elizabeth Woodville had formed an alliance with her, promising the hand of Bess to Henry Tudor. There were also rumors that Richard was going to put Anne aside after the death of their son Ned and that he was going to wed Bess himself. However, after the Court learned that Anne was expecting again, the rumor became disregarded.

The ultimate question was: who will win the final battle to be King of England?

"There is something you must know, Anne," Richard said to her. "And you must trust me."

"What is it?"

After a long hesitation, Richard said, "Henry Tudor...he is not invading to claim of English throne for himself."

"What?"

"He is invading, in the name of Henry of Lancaster."

Anne was confused. "I...I don't understand."

Reluctantly, Richard took out a letter from his breast pocket.

Anne's hands shook as she read it.

"Your son, Henry of Lancaster," Richard murmured. "He didn't die. Lady Margaret Beaufort had him smuggled out of England and lied about his death."

Her hands went to her belly and tears fell from her eyes.

Her sons.

Her children.

Oh God...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another twist.
> 
> The scene at Ned's funeral is another jab at P. Gregory's plotting and writing.
> 
> Comments please :)


	18. Chapter 18

She lied next to him with her eyes closed gently, but he knew that she was not asleep.

By the dawn of morrow, Richard would depart for the Red Plain - to face the final battle between York and Lancaster.

Henry Tudor was invading England in the name of Henry of Lancaster, who was only at the tender age of twelve.

The news shattered Anne's heart, and the Countess of Warwick didn't take it well either. Both had thought Anne's firstborn had been long deceased. Initially, they were saddened by the news of his death; now, they felt that his fate might had been better had he truly died from natural causes.

"He could be an imposter," Richard said to her one day.

Certainly, it could be a possibility; but Anne would not know, neither would Richard.

"You know that Margaret Beaufort would never intend that boy to be King," the Countess had said to her. "That lady had always wanted _her_ son to be the King of England."

Anne had not said much regarding to this boy whom Tudor claimed to be her son.

She only shed tears.

In her belly, she was bearing a York heir; at the shore from Burgundy, there was a Lancastrian child whom she had given birth to after the death of her first husband.

Either way, whoever wins the battle, she would be either wife or mother to the King.

And she would suffer.

She could feel his hand slipping under her shift to rub her belly.

Without a word, she tugged her shift over her head. Silently, she laid there as he caressed her body.

In the end, she pressed his palm against her bump, where he could feel a flush of movement.

She was pleading him.

_If you win the battle, have mercy on him. He is only a child. He knows nothing. He is only a pawn of Tudor's._

Richard said nothing.

His hand rested against her bump.

_But there is only one King of England._

_***_

When Anne woke up, she found the other side of the bed empty. Pushing herself up, she found Richard sitting not too far away from the bed. Putting on her shift and robe, she went to him. Before she could touch him, he drew her to him and held her dearly.

Anne could feel the baby moving.

"Come back to me, Richard," she whispered. "You must come back to me."

She was holding two individuals whom she treasured the most.

And in her heart, she was thinking of Henry of Lancaster.

***

After Richard left to face Tudor, Anne settled in the sanctuary with her mother, niece and nephew, and the two daughters of Elizabeth Woodville. The Countess and Margaret of Warwick were hostile towards Bess at the very least.

"It is not her fault," Anne spoke for her. "She is only her mother's daughter."

Then again, after the war is over, which one of them - Anne or Bess - shall be Queen of England?

"Are you thinking of that boy?" The Countess asked. "You think he's an imposter?"

"I don't know!" Each time Henry of Lancaster was mentioned, Anne would throw a fit. "I don't know! He can be my poor boy Henry or he can be a boy picked up from the street! I never know him! He was taken from me since the day he was born! Even his name isn't given by me!"

It hurt the Countess to see Anne as thus, but she continued on saying, "You know if Richard wins, he has a decision to make."

Anne was about to say something, but her throat was too stuffed. Tears falling from her eyes and she whispered, "Why mother? Why? Why must children suffer as thus?"

She was only fourteen when she was married to Edward of Lancaster for the sake of political alliance between her father Warwick and Margaret of Anjou. Only weeks before she was a girl playing with dolls. Anne remembered Margaret of Anjou. The aging militant Queen was now living in France under the French King's charity. Does she know that her grandson is alive?

The late King Edward's sons with Elizabeth Woodville were also boys.

One of them too young to wear the heavy crown.

Now, she was thankful that her son Ned died peacefully from natural cause -

Suddenly, horror came to her.

"Anne, what is it?"

Anne stood numbly.

Holding onto her belly, she let out a sob.

"Oh dear God! Oh dear God!" She wept.

That dream she had while pregnant with Henry years ago.

_You will have three sons. One will be King; one will die in bed; and one will die by execution..._

And that Edward of Lancaster had came to her and took her daughter away as revenge.

_Our son...how could you..._

_An eye for an eye, your daughter for my son..._

Then when she had Ned, the hooded figure appeared before her and put out one candle.

_Die in bed..._

Now she knew.

There were three candles and one was out.

Her Ned was the one who died in bed; initially she had thought it was Henry.

That remained her firstborn Henry and this child to-be-born.

One will be King and one will die from execution.

It was out of her hand.

"Anne, speak to me!" The Countess was alarmed.

Anne only lost all the strength she had; she could've collapsed to the grown had the Countess not held on to her.

***

She was resting in bed when Richard returned London victorious. He rushed to the sanctuary to see her.

"I have to rest in bed," she muttered. "The midwives said I can't rise until the birth of our son."

"You know it's a boy?" He rubbed her cheek. "No matter, I'm happy that you are well."

He kissed her knuckles.

In the following days, he stayed by her side.

He read to her and prayed with her.

While he had Sir Thomas Stanley and his brother William Stanley executed publicly along with Henry Tudor, he did not mention anything on Henry of Lancaster.

Neither did Anne.

***

"Richard, do you love me?" Anne asked him one day.

"You know I do Anne," he replied. "I always have."

"Will you love me enough, to spare me..." She stopped there and choked on her words. "I can't bear it."

"I will never hurt you, Anne," he promised.

She wrapped her arm around him and played with his dark curls.

"Bess has grown up," she said, changing the subject. "We need to find a suitor for her."

She gave him a smile.

***

That night, her water broke.

Surrounded by midwives and with her mother by her side, Anne was racked with pain.

Meanwhile, Richard was praying.

One hour went by.

Two hours...

Then five...

Richard painstakingly counted the hours.

It was almost 48.

Finally, the physician and a midwife came to inform him that the Queen had give birth to a healthy boy.

But their faces were grave.

***

She was waiting her him in bed.

"Where is my boy?" Her voice was barely audible. "I want to see him."

He gestured the wet nurse to come closer so she could have a good look at their son.

"I want to hold him."

Richard had her sit up and leaned against him while the wet nurse placed the baby into her arms, with Richard holding her arms around the baby.

"Richard?" Anne asked.

"Richard," he nodded. "His name is Richard."

"I'm too weak," she murmured. "I'm afraid that I will fall asleep."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said. "I will watch over him while you are sleeping. I will allow no harm to come to him, for he is my heir, my line, and a part of you. I promise you."

Anne spoke no more.

Her eyelids fell.

She couldn't hear Richard's cries.

Nor she could hear the cries of her son.

She became lighter and lighter.

Soon she found herself in a happy place.

Two children were waiting for her, a boy and a girl.

Anne knew they are her children - Cecily and Ned.

Taking their hands, she was happy.

***

**_London, Westminster Abbey, 1503_ **

Before the marble tomb of Lady Anne Neville, King Richard IV of England stood and read the epitaph curved on the tomb.

_She who has been a Queen and Mother on earth_

_Has become a Queen and Mother in Heaven_

The young King never met his mother, for she had died soon after giving birth to him.

His father the late Richard III had just won his decisive victory against the Lancastrian forces before his birth. He had executed his Lancastrian enemies, namely Henry Tudor. As for Margaret Beaufort, she remained imprisoned in the Tower until her death shortly prior to the King Richard IV's ascension. It was on her deathbed she confessed her involvement in the disappearances of the Princes in the Tower. According to those who were close to King Richard III, Margaret Beaufort revealed the location of the Princes' corpses and that the King had them privately reburied as royal princes.

After the death of Lady Anne Neville, the grieving King Richard III went to see his Lancastrian prisoner - Henry of Lancaster. By looking at his eyes, he knew he was Anne's son without a doubt. For a long time, he had him imprisoned but treated him well.

The boy hardly spoke and his eyes were rather empty.

Whenever he talked, he'd say, "I am Henry of Lancaster, legitimate son to Edward of Westminster and Lady Anne Neville. I am the true King of England."

Richard knew that to keep his crown safe, Henry of Lancaster had to go. However, he couldn't sign the order of his execution until another rebellion uprising occurred to restore the young Lancastrian heir to the throne. Now Richard knew he had to act. After all, he did promise Anne to keep their son safe and sound.

Thus, on the day after his sixteenth birthday, Richard had Henry of Lancaster executed in a private execution.

He was given a cushion to kneel on and a satin handkerchief to blindfold his eyes.

To make sure his death is painless, Richard hired a well-experienced French executioner to conduct the execution by the sword instead of an axe.

One swift and it was all over.

But Richard's health had deteriorated much since the execution.

Still, he lived on and married once more.

His new bride was Princess Joan of Portugal, whose cousin Manuel had wed Bess. Alas, through this marriage, Bess - who had been a daughter to a King, sister to a King, and niece to a King - would become a queen herself.

Richard's marriage to Joan produced one daughter, who was named Anne. After giving birth to her child, Joan herself lived in a rather isolated and religious life.

Under the love and protection of his father, young Richard grew into a slender young man who inherited the dark hair and eyes of his father. Richard III suffered bouts of ill health, but he vowed to live on until the day his son reaches majority. On his deathbed, he called out one name.

Joan of Portugal gestured her teenage daughter to step forward.

But it wasn't her he was calling out for.

The moment he breathed his last, young Richard Prince of Wales became King Richard IV of England.

***

Before his death, King Richard III had arranged a marriage between his son and Princess Catherine of Aragon, the youngest daughter of the Catholic Monarchs Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon. The ailing King saw to the young Infanta's arrival to England and received her warmly. The Spanish Princess was very smart, pretty, and strong-willed. However, many noticed that the lady at the new King's side wasn't the Spanish Infanta, but Lady Anne Howard, who grew up with the young King since their childhood.

The new King had been told the story of his half-brother, Henry of Lancaster, whom he never met.

He was too young to remember his execution.

Out of his curiosity, he went to the sanctuary where Henry of Lancaster was supposed to be interred according to Lady Margaret Beaufort.

He had the coffin opened.

It was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has now ended. 
> 
> And today is the eve of Battle of Bosworth.
> 
> This fic is written on a dare of annetheseamaiden based on "Handless Maiden". This fairy tale may not be as well known as other fairy tales as "Sleeping Beauty". The fic follows the fairy tales on the following:
> 
> The female protagonist had her hands taken away by the Devil. Later, she married the King who gave her a pair of silver hands. At the end of the tale, her natural hands grew back. In the fic, Anne's child is paralleled to the "hands" from the fairy tale for children in the royal family and notabilities are critical to noblewomen as hands were for peasant women. Anne's firs child was taken from her; then she married Richard and had a son, who later died from natural causes; and in the end, she had one more child, Richard.
> 
> Like Anne, the Maiden was accused of witchcraft due to the Devil's manipulation. Accusing of witchcraft is a element used commonly in fairy tales. Interestingly, the Duchess of Glocuester before Anne Neville was accused of witchcraft and sentenced to walk the penance. Her name was Eleanor.
> 
> After she was accused of witchcraft, the maiden escaped on the advise of the King's mother and hid in a forest for years with her newborn son. In the fic, Anne was hidden in a sanctuary by Duchess Cecily and was separated from Richard for 10 years.
> 
> In early chapters, Anne's time spent in her apple garden is linked to the maiden met the King in the royal garden where she wanted to eat some pears. 
> 
> PS the death of Isabel in this chapter is based on a real event in history. It was a total tragedy with no witchcraft involved. In 1664, Marie Therese, Queen of France and wife to Louis XIV gave birth to her third child, Princess Marie Anne of France. The little Princess died in infancy however, there were rumors hat she was smuggled out and later became a nun - Louise Marie Therese, The Black Nun of Moret. The rumors had that the child was a product of the Queen extramarital affair with one of her black dwarfs named Nabo. According to Madame de Montespan's memoir, the baby was born "black as ink from head to toe". However, it also worthy to note that when in 1793, when the coffins of the French royals were extracted, the body of Louis XIV was exhumed and it was "black as ink". So in other words, it's all work of nature.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments please :)
> 
> If you like to read the Fairy Tale "Maiden Without Hands": http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm031.html


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